Long Days, Lonely Nights
by information specialist
Summary: Danny, Flack and Stella: on their cases, their loves, their friends...and on each other. Reviews are extremely helpful and appreciated. Rated for brief and infrequent use of language.
1. On Suicide Girls

**On Suicide Girls**

_Contains general spoilers for the series, up to and including Oedipus Hex (episode 5, season 3) _

"Why do you think kids nowadays are so addicted to being special?" Danny mused.

"How do you mean?"

"Ever heard of Suicide Girls?"

"No. Is it a cult for girls who want to commit suicide?"

"Naw, but you'd think so wouldn't ya? It's like this punk-rock goth society thing where these girls get together and sell photos of themselves and sing and do performances. They give themselves the same last name: Suicide, hence the name of the group."

"Huh. Weird." Don replied, and then waited. He knew there was more. He had seen Danny in this mood before where a case just impacted him to the point where he wouldn't be able to sleep if he didn't talk it over with someone first. That someone was usually Flack and the place was usually Sullivan's.

"Well our victim ran away from Wyoming to join them in New York." He left out the fact that the mother had slapped him in her grief. There were so many things he could talk about with Flack, but this wasn't one of them. Instead, he continued. "She was killed by a jealous guy but all this just got me thinking, why all the hype to be so different? I mean, most of these girls, they're knockouts."

"Well, maybe you could introduce me sometime."

"Forget it. They all dress like its Halloween every day; not your type. For some reason though, science geeks are theirs. Adam knows all about them. Told me he used to go out with one and she 'broke his heart'."

"Now why doesn't that surprise me," Flack grinned.

"Actually, one of them, Nixon, asked me out. Her exact words were 'take you home with me."

"Wow. And did you accept?"

"Couldn't even if I wanted. And I did want to, but the shaved head made me think twice."

"That and the fact that you got a thing for Monroe." Danny opted to not reply and instead continued with their previous subject.

"But, damn she was hot," he sighed.

"Regretting your decision are you? I bet the fact that you haven't gotten any for a while has a lot to do with it."

"Like you're any better? When was your last time, before you got blown up?" Don quieted the panic that built up at the mention of the incident. He knew that Danny was only kidding and responded in kind.

"I'll have you know, that thanks to that bomb, I now have battle wounds, making me irresistible to women."

"Yeah, yeah, everyone loves a hero right?"

"That's what Stella says. Shame she seems to be immune to it though."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing."

"C'mon Flack, you said it, what do mean? You have the hots for Stella?"

"God, you say one comment and people just jump all over you. I don't have the hots for Stella, I just wouldn't mind having one more woman fall in love with me."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. And going back to what you were saying, I don't think it has to do with being different as much as it has to do with trying to be the same."

"What?" Danny asked, distracted.

"You said this girl came all the way to New York to join these girls. I'm guessing she just wanted to be included with a group of kids she thought understood her."

"Huh. Maybe, but it still brings up the question why she felt she was different from kids in her hometown in the first place."

"Maybe for the same reason you felt different from the kids you grew up with," Flack said meaningfully. He waited as Danny thought about this.

"Yeah," Danny finally agreed. And Flack smiled.

"So what time do you gotta go to work tomorrow?"

"Around ten, why?"

"No wonder you're taking it easy here. Well, see ya later. I gotta get in at seven." With that, Flack slid out of the booth, and left. Danny looked at him till he was out of sight, mulling that one sentence in his head, as well as how bemused Don looked at him when he asked him about it.

"_Shame she seems to be immune to it."_

"What's up with you Flack. You sweet on my partner?" he thought, more than a little confused himself. Wondering how he would feel if that were true.


	2. On Consequences

**On Consequences**

_Contains general spoilers for the series, up to and including Consequences (episode 8, season 3)_

The second Lamond said the number, I uttered every curse I knew in my mind. Considering my job, that's a lot. Then I said them again and just for good measure, I cursed Mac as well. Until that moment, I had been sure I was just there to lay aside his suspicions. But now it was unequivocal. He had reason to be suspicious. On the way back to the precinct, I decided not to say anything. If he wanted to move forward on this, I wasn't going to have any part of it. So I stayed at my desk, catching up on paperwork; but in reality, I was waiting. And when he came, I thought, here we go. I hated the sympathy in his voice. "I know how hard this is for you". The hell he did. He wouldn't have to live with it. I'm the one who would have to take the heat. It took everything in me to throw the memo book on my desk; I wouldn't give it to him by hand. It was all I could do to not snatch it back from him and tell him to get a subpoena. I was between a rock and a hard place. And while it was easy for Mac to spout his idealistic crap, I was the one who was going to have to live with the results. He left, and now all I can do is wait for the shit to hit the fan.

And it hit hard. It started the moment he walked in to arrest Truby with the two officers. Everyone questioned his presence and they looked at me for answers. They knew I had been working with him on his recent case. Plus they all saw him talking to me earlier. The questions will start five seconds after he's gone. Hell, the stares already have and by the end of the day, everybody will know. Of course, I would be called into the Captain's office to explain what was going on. After that, welcome to Shunville Flack.

Don thought all this as Mac made his way to Truby, but his bitter thoughts increased as he saw the cuffs being put on Truby. _What a fucking disgrace. This is a guy I've been working with for years. _He could already hear his captain's words. You were in charge of the scene. You should have been there. He couldn't have taken them if you found them first, etc, etc. The worst part is he half believed the predictable reprimands. _I was in charge. God damn it. Damn you Mac. Damn you for your black and white idealism. Damn you for your patriotism. Damn you for saving my life and always being right and for putting me in this position. And damn you for knowing what I'm going through but not caring enough to do anything about it._

Irrational thoughts. He knew that but that didn't stop him from thinking them.

He tried to keep his face on his paperwork, but couldn't help looking at Mac as he left but the man's face was unreadable._ And damn that poker face._ Afterwards, he stared into nothing until, inevitably, he was called in to explain what was going on.


	3. On Truby's Arrest

**On Truby's Arrest**

_Contains general spoilers for the series, up to and including Consequences (episode 8, season 3)_

"You know you did the right thing Flack."

"Would you stop saying that Danny, it doesn't make this any easier. Besides, I'm not sure it's true."

"C'mon Flack."

"Buddy, The reason I came to the diner instead of the bar was I knew it would be less crowded with cops and I didn't feel like talking to anyone." He could have gone home but not wanting to talk didn't entail wanting to be alone. "Can we please drop this?"

"Look, I get it. You think that even though Mac and I are also detectives, we work in the lab and aren't subjected to the 'code' you cops live by. But I know what a big deal this is for you and the PD, which, in case you forgot we all work for. So please don't act like I don't get what's going on."

"Do you get that I don't want to talk about this now? Maybe not ever?" he snapped, wondering if it might have actually been better to go home.

Danny would have continued his efforts to make Flack feel better. He might have even ventured to ask how the dark haired detective thought his dad would take the news if he found out. But he spotted Lindsay entering the diner.

"Okay, fine. I'll catch you later." Don looked up from the menu, startled from this abrupt goodbye, but his surprise abated when he where Danny was headed. He shook his head, astounded at how quickly the guy changed gears the moment he saw Lindsay. He would never say anything, but the infatuation was a mystery to him. She was pretty, but so were many girls. He suspected Danny was attracted to her wholesome nature. In his mind though, nothing could make up for the way she kept avoiding his friend. It was annoying as well as hurtful even though Messer wouldn't let on. It also made the Don pretty angry with her. Almost as if proving his point, he saw how unenthusiastically she let Danny join her for dinner.

"They seem to be doing okay, right?" Stella's voice came from behind him, leaning an arm on his booth's top. He was about to ask her if she was watching a different channel when her raised eyebrows told him that she wasn't being serious. Her lips turned up at the corners as she gestured to the empty seat across from him. "Can I join you?" and he couldn't resist smiling back.

"Always, Stella. What's up?"

"Nothing. I just didn't feel like eating alone," sitting down. He guessed the topic of Truby was on her mind but hoped they wouldn't talk about it. And he needn't have worried. They sat chatting about old cases and mutual acquaintances until, surprisingly, he brought up the subject himself during his steak and her chicken.

"You know Mac arrested Dean Truby?"

"Yeah. Hawkes had mentioned earlier that they suspected a cop killed Tanaka and that Mac needed your memo book to be sure who it was," She affirmed, taking a drink of water.

"It's for the best," he said, clearly unsure if he really meant it. Stella thought she might know how he felt. As a woman, it had taken her more work to be integrated into the NYPD. No matter how many female officers there are, it will always be hard to prove yourself in a 'man's world'. And when you did, you had to be vigilant to never do anything that in any way can constitute as a 'mistake'. And she was sure that contrary to what people may think, it must have been hard for Flack as well. Coming into the NYPD where your father is a legend meant that people either had irrationally high expectations for you, or extremely low ones depending on whether they thought you would inherit your father's talent or just traded on it. Either notion was equally unfair. She also knew that Mac, with his military background, didn't have to endure any of that. He had already proven himself. But she wouldn't tell that to Don; no need to give him any more reason for resentment against Mac, she thought, remembering of the Moran ordeal and of how sour Flack had been over Mac's insisting he remain on the case. _He obviously enjoys watching me nail a friend_. She had told him Mac was just looking out for him, which was true but apparently Flack didn't get that, and she wasn't surprised. Mac was too damn professional. But she wanted to see how warranted the comment was. So she mentioned to Mac how the situation had done a number on Flack. And what was his answer? _He's been by the book, he'll come out of it alright_. She answered that that wasn't what she meant, but hadn't said anything else. They were at a crime scene. And to remind Mac of the mechanics of human emotion would have taken far too much of time and energy that should be spent on the case. But her fears were confirmed. The head of the lab's professionalism was bordering on insensitivity. That he was worried about Flack may have been a given, but saying it would have been more considerate. It was understandable that the younger detective resentful of Mac's behavior at the time; and it made her suspect that he did now as well. There was certainly a vibe of ill use emanating from him, even though he was too disciplined to ever complain. Especially to her; Mac's right hand and best friend. So she chose a diplomatic answer to his comment about having done the right thing, letting him know that just because she and Mac were close, didn't automatically mean she was on his side.

"Time will tell Flack."

"Yeah." As if he absorbed Stella's thoughts, Flack was also thinking about the Gavin Moran. This must be how he felt and although Don never wanted to bring him in, a mocking thought entered his head: what goes around comes around. But he saved that thought for later; he preferred to wallow in his misery in private. Now he brought his attention back to Stella, who had been speaking.

"It'll be okay, Flack," she said encouragingly. "It'll suck for a while, maybe a long time, but it will get better." And unlike when Mac tried to console him, he didn't feel any anger. All he felt was a sense of gratitude. In her eyes, he saw a true understanding of the situation. She was letting him know that she knew how bad it will be. How bad it already is. And without belittling his situation or his feelings, telling him that despite everything, she still thought he would get past it. And though he knew it would be hard and although he felt sick to his stomach when he thought of it, he knew he would.

"Thanks Stella."


	4. On Differences of Opinion

**On Differences of Opinion**

_Contains general spoilers and references to entire series, up to and including Sweet Sixteen (episode 10, season 3)_

Stella was on her way out to the PD to question Debra Archerson when Danny grabbed her, literally.

"You got a minute?"

"Yeah…?"

"Okay, so things haven't exactly been perfect between Mac and Flack…which, apparently I don't need to tell you cause you already know." He finished off when he saw recognition dawn on her.

"I had dinner with Flack the night Truby got arrested and I got the feeling he was upset with Mac."

"Good, so you know about- hey, wait up. I was with Flack that night. I didn't see you," he interrupted himself. And Stella smiled slyly.

"I joined him after you apparently got distracted by someone prettier, at least to you." And Danny was instantly sorry he had asked.

"Anyway, it's good that you know. Cause I think they argued over a suspect in today's case. I was bringing Mac some evidence, didn't like Flack's response to it so I got the hell out of there. I really don't want to get involved between my boss and my buddy so I was hoping maybe you can find out if everything's okay? I mean, last time I tried talking to Flack about Mac-that night you sat with him at the diner-it seemed all I did was push his buttons."

It was not hard for the older woman to believe. Danny was all emotion and good intention but his honesty was probably not what Flack needed at this point. And while she would not normally think herself any better, that dinner they had proved that if anything, Flack needed a sounding board to vent a little. And that she could do.

FDSFDSFDSFDSFDSFDSFDSFDSFDSFDSFDS

"I was hoping I'd run into you."

"Please don't tell me you need me for anything, I'm on my way home."

"Yeah? I'll walk you."

"Not that I mind having a beautiful woman escort me but your face has "something's up" written all over it Bonasera."

"Am I that obvious?"

"Well, to me at least. I still can't believe you play poker. Do you ever win?" he teased.

"I guess we'll have to play a few rounds so I can show you Detective," she challenged.

"So to what do I owe this pleasure?" Stella sighed then took the plunge.

"You and Mac okay?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Well, Danny told me things got a bit heated over today's case. He seemed a bit worried so I thought I'd make sure."

"Well, you know me. I'm always in a hurry to arrest someone as soon as a bit of evidence shows up. But everything's cool. Taylor and I had a difference of opinion on how viable a suspect was. Anyway, he was right and the criminal is behind bars. It was nothing, really. I mean, it was nowhere near the argument you and I had once over Amadori's killer," he pointed out, hoping to sidetrack her by bringing up an old case.

Stella recognized an evasive technique when she saw one. Plus Flack's use of 'Taylor' instead of 'Mac' to refer to the man in question was not unnoticed by her. Unsure how to proceed, she thought that maybe being blunt would work as well for her as it did for him. After all, it got her to admit what brought her there.

"Is it Truby?" And it was his turn to be perturbed at how easily he had been read. However, the technique worked, and he answered honestly, albeit grudgingly.

"It hasn't been too friendly around work lately and I've been stressed out. I blame Truby of course, but I also blame myself. Sometimes, it's easy to shift off some of that on to Mac," he explained, trying to sound offhanded.

"Well that's understandable," she consoled. He looked at her, trying to guess if she was just luring him into dishing out more on Mac. After all, he was her best friend. The sensitive woman guessed what Flack was thinking, and put her hand on his shoulder, stopping him mid-walk.

"You're my friend too, Don. Remember?" He did, and felt incredibly ashamed of himself. This was, after all, Stella. She had more loyalty and understanding than all the other jerks at the NYPD put together.

"I do. I'm sorry except I really hate this. And you know Mac is more than just a colleague and superior. But even though he told me where the evidence was pointing I still feel like he blind sighted me. I know that wasn't the case, it's just…"

"It's one of those things that take you by surprise, even if you knew of its possibility. After all, no one likes to think the worse will happen. And in our line of work, this is the worst case scenario."

"Exactly," he stated, gratefully. They resumed their walk as he marveled at how well she not only understood him, but could put his own feelings into words more articulately than he could. It made him happy he had opened to her despite himself. "I do hate being angry. Especially when I know he was just doing his job. But I can't help it. And I hate that." She read between the lines the words he could not say. She did not know if Don was homophobic, but most men would be hard pressed to admit love for another man, even if it resulted from a life threatening situation. And she knew that while Flack and Mac had always shared a friendly working relationship, a closer bond had developed after the latter saved the former's life. It brought them to the point where each considered the other as a friend, not just a co-worker. But it was a new relationship. And like all new relationships, it could either break or become stronger from its first hurdle. And this was a major one. It seemed a rift had already started forming between the two.

"You know, it's sometimes hard being around Mac," he stated suddenly.

"How so?"

"He's too perfect. It's hard to be around someone like that." And while Stella agreed wholeheartedly with Flack, it was one of those painful subjects which she hated broaching, even to herself. Instead she pointed out something that might cheer the blue-eyed detective up.

"People say the same thing about you, you know."

"Really?"

"Yeah. The rookie who made Detective in record time. Good looks, a legend for a father; you're like a poster child for the PD." _Or not. Damn it. Of all subjects, I had to go there. Instead of cheering him up, he looks downright, well, blue now. _

"It's amazing what people don't know," the quiet tone confirmed her notion.

"Yeah it is," she answered kindly. And when he startled, she realized that she made yet another mistake.

Don looked at Stella suspiciously, a cold fear gripping him. Her answer and demeanor was like she knew what he was talking about. He had regretted saying that last comment, anxious that he might be asked to explain. But this look like she understood what caused him to say it was unexpected. No one was supposed to know, not even Danny, though he might have guessed. But Stella? It was as if she had more than just an inkling about his relationship with his father; or lack, there of. Never comfortable with thinking of Don Flack Sr., much less discussing him, he ended the subject.

"Anyway. Don't worry. And I'll talk to Danny as well." _Yeah, I'll definitely talk to him. What have you been saying about me, Messer? "_Thanks for walking me Stel, but until here is fine.. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" And his long legs carried him away quickly as Stella, disheartened, looked at his retreating frame, thinking that maybe now she'll finally learn to mind her own business.

FDSFDSFDSFDSFDSFDSFDSFDSFDSFDSFDS

Flack entered his apartment and locked the door. The half-Greek, half-Italian Detective always brightened up his day, but this time she had also given him a lot to think about; or to avoid thinking about. Not that he needed any more of that thanks to the day's case. Mac had suspected that the man was beating his kid and what had he answered? _Maybe the kid plays football._ He of all people should have known better but couldn't see what was staring him in the face. Once again, in what was becoming a demoralizing pattern these days, he had been wrong. Lifelessly, he changed into pair of sweat pants, made a sandwich, then ate it while watching Letterman. It was only while brushing his teeth, his eyes staring back at him out of the mirror, cold and blue like his father's, that his thoughts veered into that direction. And at that moment, the orbs were just as accusing. In his mind he could imagine the man's mocking laughter; yeah, his dad would find it hilarious that his son's best bust of the year had turned into one of the worst events in any career.

As tired as Don was, it was a long time before he could sleep.


	5. On Shane Casey

**On Shane Casey**

_Contains spoilers up to and including Raising Shane (season 3, episode 11)_

"That was good work in there Danno."

"Thanks. You know, he really is a pshycho. But I still feel kinda sorry for him. He couldn't help loving his brother so much." Danny said quietly. "You know he looked me up. Found out about Louie."

"Well, I guess what you said to him in the squad car after the first arrest aroused his curiosity." Flack said, almost reprovingly. He didn't get personal with suspects. The only emotions he ever felt around them was anger, impatience, and disgust. But he didn't blame Danny his empathy. It was part of who he is and unless they were hurting somebody, he could never blame people for being who they are.

"Who's picking up the Doc?"

"Well, I was supposed to, except somebody suddenly had an urge to talk. Hasn't this been a long enough day?"

"Stop whining like kid, Messer. So who went instead?"

"Stella did. They're coming here by the way. Said she wanted to celebrate his release.

They close?"

"I guess. You know if she hadn't insisted that we stick to our jobs then we may have never found Kelli Jones's real killer."

"You mean **you** may never have found him."

"Whatever." replied Danny, with uncommon modesty. But it wasn't easy to gloat when a colleague had spent time in jail. "You know Mac was right to have me work the other case with her. She really keeps me in check."

"You don't have to tell me. I saw how she ordered you out of the crime scene when you got into it with Captain Gerard; which, by the way, is not a smart move."

"Well, what can I say, your boss is an ass."

"Takes one to know one," Flack shot back. "But you really pissed him off. He actually threatened Stella about you, you know." The actual words were, 'beat some sense into that kid', but Flack knew better than to tell Danny that.

"Yeah? No wonder she was hard on me today."

"Actually, she threatened him back; told him if he ever threatened a member of her team, she'd be after him till she got his badge."

"Get outta here!"

"Well, that's Stella for you," Don said fondly, then he noticed that Danny had an affectionate grin on his face as well. And he decided to say what was on his mind, before the others arrived.

"Speaking of Stella, we had a pretty weird conversation the other day." That piqued the blonde's interest. "Yeah, she said something about me being a poster child for the PD. I said they didn't know anything, and surprisingly, she agreed."

"Okay…"

"Know anything about it."

"About what?"

"About why she would agree."

"I don't know, maybe she was just going along with what you said."

"Danny. Have you said anything to Stella about the old man?"

"Wha-?" Warning bells went off in Danny's head, and he finally knew what was on his friends mind. "No. I've hardly ever talk about him with you. Why would I say anything to her?" The damn ringing got louder when he saw the intense look Don was giving him and he started to worry; Don was extremely private when it came to his dad. Because of that, it would be hard to believe that Stella found out from anyone other than Danny. He knew that was exactly what Flack was thinking.

"Look man, I'm your best friend. I wouldn't lie to you. If she knows anything, I have no idea how it happened." But he wouldn't put it past her. Stella is very inquisitive, in a caring sort of way, but he knew she would never pry. "Maybe she saw or heard something…" he offered, lamely.

The woman in question walked in at that moment with Sheldon. Don shook his head slightly at his anxious friend, signaling him to terminate the conversation-at least for now. And 'now' lasted until the next day because when Flack got up to leave, Stella said she will as well. Danny wanted to go with Flack and make sure things were cool between them but couldn't think of a polite way to leave when Sheldon was in the middle of telling him how degraded he felt when he had to sign to get his personal belongings back. He assumed that maybe this was why Flack chose that precise moment to leave; so that Danny couldn't follow. It saddened him a bit but he knew that sometimes Flack just needed some space. It was so different from whenever he had a problem. Usually he just complained to whoever was in front of him, or if it was something more private, found Flack and told him all about it. But that was not how his friend dealt with his issues. _Just know I'm here for you Don. Whenever you want to talk about it, I'll be there to listen._ He tried to communicate this thought through eye contact as he bid the two 'good night'. The 'see you tomorrow' Flack gave him wasn't as cheerful as Danny would have liked, but was stated warmly enough that he knew his silent message was understood.

DSFDSFDSFDSFDSFDSF

"Hey Flack, can I talk to you a bit?"

"Actually Stella, I just want to head home now. I'll catch you later."

"Flack, please wait." And he did. Stella was such a nice person that it would be hard for anyone to ignore her. Plus she said please. And she meant it. Silently berating her for being polite, and himself for being a gentleman, he stopped and looked at her, indicating that he was listening; even though his whole body looked wary.

"I just wanted to thank you for helping out Mac at the precinct. I know that Gerard would probably have arrested him if you hadn't stepped in." An odd mixture of relief and anger flooded Flack when he realized what Stella wanted. She didn't want to talk about his dad, she wanted to talk about Mac. Unable to decide if that made him happy or angry, he settled for telling himself off for being paranoid.

"It's no big deal Stella."

"Yes, it is a big deal. It shows that you still consider him a friend, or at least that you're not the type to hold a grudge. That means a lot to me." Now he was confused. Helping Mac made her happy; a fool would know that. But why would his character make a difference to her either way?

"Why?"

"It just does," she said, looking into his eyes. He was now more bemused than ever, but could see that this meant a lot to her. _Well, of course. It's about Mac_. But he didn't know that she was actually thinking about him, saying to herself: _It means you can forgive me._

"Well, I try not to hold grudges. Especially with people I work with. It's too much of a hassle," he cracked, trying to lighten up the mood. He really wanted to sleep easy that night. As if reading his mind, Stella suddenly hooked her arm through his. The wanton gesture suprised and embarrassed him, but was not unpleasant.

"You're absolutely right," giving him a huge smile.


	6. On Interrogation Methods and Obsession

_(Dialogue from The Lying Game, season 3, episode 14)_

Stella: What's a woman doing in a men's bathroom?

Flack: Oh I can think of a few reasons, all with happier endings.

Flack: Hey Frank, we know the drill. You're far from home in the big city. Get a couple of drinks in you, foxy lady comes on to you, gets some juices flowing, you drag her into the bathroom to have a good time. But then you find out the hard way, that she's actually a he. And then you loose it.

Or maybe you knew she was a guy all along. Maybe you liked it. Ever see Brokeback Mountain, Frank?

Stella: It's okay frank, this is New York City, we even have a gay parade here, there's nothing to be ashamed of.

Suspect: I'm not ashamed, dammit! Okay? And I'm not gay!

**On Interrogation Methods and Obsession**

_Contains spoilers up to and including The Lying Game, (season 3, episode 14)_

""Found out the **hard** way?" That wasn't very original Flack."

"But it was still funny," he insisted. And she was so tempted to ask if he ever had a lady guest in the men's bathroom, but was kind of afraid of where that conversation might go. Instead she indulged him by smiling and agreeing that, yes it was funny.

"A little, anyway. And beautiful work back there."

"Thanks."

"I really enjoy working with you, you know. You make taking down these suspects that much more fun. "

"I could say the same thing to you. Between the two of us, a confession is always inevitable.

"By the way, did you really drive all the way to Connecticut for the file on the Congressman?

"Well, actually I didn't need to do that. Thankfully they were so angry at having him get away that they just faxed the stuff over.

"But you would have."

"Yeah, sure."

"Huh…that's vigilant."

"Either that or I became a detective so recently that I haven't forgotten what it was like to be the department's errand boy," he cracked. It was true. Compared with other detectives of his grade, he was amongst the youngest; thus was always put down by those who were of equal rank, but still saw themselves as his superiors. But he had his pride; he gave respect where it was due, was courteous to those who deserved it, and was flip with those who didn't; without ever crossing the line into being explicitly rude. Of course, he didn't need to mention any of this to Stella, but her scrutiny had made him uncomfortable. He just wasn't used to praise. Banter was familiar ground and Stella always rose to the occasion.

"I need to get back to the lab, so can you finish up here? Be **my** errand boy for a bit?" Smiling, a thought crossed his mind: _Bless the woman, she never misses an opportunity._ So what if the joke came as an aside to extra work? Her teasing always made him relax.

"Yeah sure," the reply was given graciously. They were leaving Booking and continued walking. Once they reached the main hall, she would go out the main door and he'd continue a bit further to reach the police station's main office, where his desk was.

These day's, he had ample opportunity to remember what it was like when he first started. He would never allow himself be treated like an errand boy now, or ever again. But because of his age, even with all the experience, meant that he was the perpetual rookie. Each bust was like proving himself all over again. A reporter once told him you're only as good as you're latest headline; well, at the PD, he was only as good as his latest big bust. And considering how well that went…though it's been years since the beginning, sometimes it still felt like yesterday. And remembering was not pleasant. It was something that could literally ruin his day. The one good thing in his life at that time had been Gavin Moran, and with a pang he realized how much he missed the man who was more of a father to him than his own.

Stella snuck a look at Flack, and saw his face get morose; something which happened frequently these days. She felt bad for him. He was still getting some heat from the rest of the cops but she knew it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. She suspected Sr. was what was on the detective's mind, but had decided to never bring it up again, or even hint to him that anyone knew. Probably, very few did anyway. The old man obviously didn't get out much and that day at the bar there were only a few people left anyway. Thankfully, most of them were so dead drunk they had been scraped off the bar and put into taxis by the bartender after the ruckus. Even she had been tipsy enough to not remember everything clearly. But she remembered those cold blue eyes, so much like Don's, and that cruel voice, so unlike his son's, spouting profanities at anything and everything. Shaking herself out of the memory, she decided to do the same to Don who was so deep in thought he could only be thinking about the same thing.

"I really love watching you work Flack, and not just in interrogation. It's like that suspect we had, for the woman who cried rape. What was his name…Artemis. I swear I almost laughed when he called you 'angry man' after you roughed him up. And then arresting him because you didn't like him? That was just so like you," giving him one of her dazzling smiles. The younger man blinked in surprise- he thought that they had moved on from that subject-before answering her, lightly, to hide his embarrassment.

"Yeah, well, he was too cocky. Smiled a lot," Of course, taking out his aggression on suspects was always satisfying. It was like having his own therapist; God knew he probably needed one. Which is why he was a bit self-conscious when Stella praised this habit; as if calling him on it. But he knew it wasn't intentional; her comment was sincere. And he reciprocated her feelings; she had no problem ruffling feathers as well, no matter who they belonged to.

"Hey, you're no shriveling flower either. Watching you tearing into them verbally is more satisfying than any shoving I can do." It was strangely rewarding and working with her always made his day, rivaled only by his teaming up with Danny because he was his best friend. _No, Danny I can see after hours without raising any questions, so working with her is definitely better._ She never made him feel like a rookie, was always polite and even acknowledged his jokes, if not with words, then with raised eyebrows and sarcastic smiles. Plus she hardly ever forgot to put the science in layman's terms. "I still can't believe you got that guy to confess murder with nothing more than a snowflake for evidence."

"I know," modestly, "even I can hardly believe it. Without his confession, I doubt the DA would have gone forward." Then her expression darkened a bit. "But even I couldn't come up with a response when he told me killing the guy was worth it, just to know his ex loved him."

"I know. The real question is was she worth it? I mean I could see that guy was really in love but if a woman treated me like that, I'd be out the door in half a second."

"All men say that, then they find someone they would do anything for and discover that love makes hypocrites out of everyone."

"Come on, Stel, only crazy people kill for love."

"Well, in that context, I agree."

"And in others?" he asked, incredulous.

"I think it would be nice to care so much about someone that you would have those feelings. Not necessarily commit murder, but, you know…"

"Stella Bonasera, a romantic?" She blushed, stopping. They had reached the main door.

"Hey, I'm only human."

"Well, nobody's perfect," he consoled, mocking her.

"Oh shut up. Now go finish up that paperwork."

"Yes ma'am."

And Stella left, happy that she had distracted Don from his gloom and hoped that the better mood would last him the whole day.

Continued on to the office , he was actually feeling slightly disoriented. After Danny swore that he hadn't said anything to their curly haired friend, Don concluded that maybe he was reading too much into Stella's comment. Still, thinking of his dad always took its toll on him, and not just because he was a jerk, but because it always made him remember his mother. Although she was as loved by him as much as his dad was hated, both subjects made his gut constrict painfully. Because of that, he'd planned on avoiding Stella for a while, until he got his bearings back-Of course, that plan was over before it started as she insisted on talking to him, thanking him for standing up for Mac, then insisted on walking him home, her arm in his the whole time, looking oddly pleased.

_What was I thinking anyway? Who would want to avoid Stella? She brightens everything around her just by being there._ And he suddenly knew that he had another form of therapy. The second best thing to giving suspects a hard time, was watching her do it.

Feeling more tranquil than he had in a long time, he picked up his phone and gave Moran a call.

"Hey Gavin. How's it been? How about having a hungry cop for dinner? Well, I probably would taste good to your girls, but I'm not sure if the wife would like that…," then laughed at the indignant threats he received for his joke.

Author's Notes:

By now readers have probably noticed a pattern. I'm writing the story in order of, and based on the episodes in season 3, with occasional references to cases in seasons one and two. There is so much material to work with! The story is Danny/Flack/Stella centric but others will make guest appearances as well.


	7. On Lindsay and Capgras Syndrome

_Spoilers up to and including Heart of Glass, Season 3, episode 16_

**On Lindsay and Capgras Syndrome**

"Hey, how come you never mentioned that Mac and Peyton were together?" Danny was indignant.

"Didn't you know? You're around them more than I am I assumed you did," the accused Don smirked, not feeling guilty at all.

"Well Mac failed to mention it in our last staff meeting and the lab isn't exactly the hottest date scene so I haven't seen them make out there. How'd you find out anyway?"

"I saw them having dinner once. It was a late shift, I got hungry, and Stella suggested this place which served good food all hours and we ran into them there. I guess it's no surprise since its both of their favorite restaurants."

"Whose?"

"Mac and Stella's. She said they used to hang out there all the time."

Suddenly, Danny didn't feel like continuing the conversation so he went on to a subject that always made him feel good; breaking a case.

"You wouldn't believe the case I had today. A guy tried to shoot his wife on the floor above the one where a woman lay dead in the bathtub. Turns out she died from electric shock cause one of the bullets the guy shot at his wife missed, sliced through the floor and nicked the wire of a fan in the grate above the tub. She reached out to see what the noise was when it electrocuted her."

"Crazy"

"Yeah, but you know I managed to make sense of it all. Guy's behind bars by the way," Danny boasted.

"Before I toast to that, our case was weird as well. This woman suffering from Capgras Syndrome after a car accident kept seeing herself in the mirrors and windows all over her brother's apartment, thinking she was someone else. Because of the illness, she couldn't recognize herself. While she was fighting off the 'intruder' she ended up accidentally killing her brother.

"Capgras Syndrome…never heard of it. You sure it's real?"

"I'm telling you I saw the whole thing myself. Mac was explaining it to her when she saw herself in the reflective window in interrogation. She attacked it and it broke. Got glass all over us. Stella even got cut."

"Is she okay?"

"Yeah it was just a superficial cut on the cheek, very little blood. But she was really weird about it- wouldn't let Hawkes check it out. Heck she ran off the second he tried to get a closer look at it. It was very abrupt, almost rude. Poor Doc almost looked hurt. I thought they were supposed to be friends?"

"Stella's everyone's friend," Danny stated carelessly, more concerned with the incident his friend was relaying. "That does not sound like her at all," he stated, eyebrows drawn in confusion.

"Tell me about it. Just told him to not touch her and walked out of the room." He didn't add that he felt as bewildered and hurt as the doctor had looked; Don had also started in her direction before her sudden order."Mac walked in a second later to ask what was going on and we told him that she got cut and probably went to get a band-aid."

"Yeah probably." Danny concurred, but was a bit worried. He really cared about Stella and hoped everything was okay. She had been the one to give him the 'head's up' on Lindsay, and why she had left. It was during a drive out to a scene when he casually asked her when if she knew when Lindsay was coming back. She had answered, that probably not until after the verdict, considering how personal the case was for her. He sat silently, trying to figure out if he would ask her what that meant, when the Greek looked him in the eye and stated:

"_She didn't tell you anything, did she?" He had been ashamed to admit it. She however, was unconcerned and said that was understandable, since Lindsay liked him so much. _

"_Before I disagree with you, which I'm sure I will, you gotta explain how that works cause I didn't get a word you said."_

"_Come on Danny. The whole lab has seen you two make goo-goo eyes at each other. I'm guessing she didn't want to tell you anything because she wanted to be able to handle this on her own."_

"Messer?"

"What?"

"Thinking of Monroe again? C'mon, you guys aren't even going out. I know you want to make a good impression, but she's not here now. This is your chance to have some fun, let off a bit of steam till she gets back and you need to start behaving again," he quipped.

"Just back off, will ya." But he knew Don was just messing with him. In fact, he was one of the few people who knew that Danny's playboy reputation was not only overrated, but highly undeserved. It came from the fact that women were drawn to him like a magnet, not the other way around. And the more aggressive they were, the more he shied away from them. If anything, the Italian was almost timid. As to sleeping around, neither of the two detectives went down that route, and definitely not for lack of opportunity. But being law enforcers, they preferred getting to know women's lives before their bodies. They've been around too many crime scenes caused by jealous husbands and lovers to not take that precaution.

Flack had been essentially relieved when he found out about Lindsay going back to Montana. Not that he enjoyed watching his blond friend pining for her (that was just sad) but because he finally got what her problem was. And while he still didn't think it was justifiable for the way she treated his friend, it was at least understandable. Seeing that Danny ran out of beer, he considered ordering some more, then thought better of it. Instead, he poured some of his own into Danny's glass.

"Here's to her safe return."

"I'll drink to that."

**Author's Comments:**

I just want to make it clear that I do not hate Lindsay. But I do plan on doing something different than all the other fic's out there, which still keeps to the events in the series.


	8. On The Evening of a Hard Day

**On The Evening of a Hard Day**

_(Spoilers up to, and including Sleight out of Hand, season 3, episode 18)_

"I'm leaving. Do you need anything?"

"Yeah, I wanted to ask you something." She entered Mac Taylor's office. "Do you ever think about why your parents left you?" Stella froze. Too late, Mac tried to ease into the subject more gently. "I'm sorry it's just that Luke Blade…he was so angry. And, you know how Reed was looking for his mother…I just can't help wondering. What if Reed had turned out like Luke?

"Mac, Luke suffered from Fetal Alcohol Syndrome."

"Yeah, but he also felt so betrayed. That wasn't caused by the syndrome." He looked at her, waiting for an answer, and she gave him the only one he could handle.

"It is just something I try to not think about.'

"Oh."

"Well Goodnight."

Detective Bonasera was extremely tired and extremely hungry. Awkwardly discussing her lack of parentage with Mac when it's been years and years since the last time she talked about it was not on her to-do list after a day of hard day work. It was one of those nights where she just wanted to eat dinner, soak in the tub listening to classical music. But the fact that the fridge at home was empty meant that her plans had to wait. Takeout would solve her problem with minimal delay to her "me" time. So instead of having her taxi drop her off at her building, she had it stop by her favorite diner. It was near home, so she's walk the rest of the way. There, she ran into Flack doing the same.

"Guess you liked this place last time I brought you?"

"Hey, I make a great steak, but I don't always feel up to cooking."

"Understatement of the year. The Police Department's newsletter took a poll once; most single cops eat out at least four times a week."

"Ouch. I have to admit that was true for me as well. But I've cut down to twice a week when I realized how much of my paycheck was going into takeout.

"Home made food is healthier as well," she added, feeling guilty now about the burger she was about to purchase.

"Tell, you what, my treat. You've had a long day."

"So have you Don," with a tired grin.

"Well, you can pay me back by letting me walk you home." Too beat to argue, she settled for giving him an appreciative smile.

"Sure." They got their burgers then set out to her apartment, walking in silence for a while with her wondering how he seemed to know the way so well-then remembered it has been less than a year since he had kicked in the door of her apartment. Already feeling down without thinking of Frankie, she stopped at a news stand, hoping to catch a headline that will take her mind off the dark thoughts that threatened to overtake.

Don waited while she flipped through the pages.

"Looking for good news? You won't find it there," he joked. Stella didn't answer, but was staring at something.

"Anything interesting?"

"Remember Paul Richmond?" Flack searched his memory, and quickly remembered a pale, blond man who had grabbed Stella while the officers were leading his protesting wife away. He had been screaming: "It wasn't her, it was me!"

"Yeah, confessed to killing a doctor to cover for his wife."

"The doctor had scammed them out of penny they had, claiming she could cure him of his blood disease."

"The lady with the slugs," he confirmed, waiting to see where this was going. Stella held up the paper and pointed at the obituary section.

"He died."

"Oh…that's sad." Don was sympathetic, but couldn't understand why this seemed to effect Stella so much. Was the light playing tricks on him or were those actually tears in her eyes? She put the newspaper back on the stand and they walked in silence. He remembered that after yanking Paul off Stella, she had calmed him down, signaled to Flack that it was okay, and then took him out for some air. They went alone. He didn't know what she had talked about with the suspect, and never thought of it, but he did now. As the brooding silence continued, he wondered if he should say something. Then she did.

"He had asked me if there was anything I could do. To make it out that he did it, not her. Said he was going to die anyway. I told him I was sorry."

"Well, there was nothing you could do." Again the silence stretched between them. And again, she broke it just as he was wondering if he should.

"You're a dreamer, right Flack?"

"What?"

"Well, you once mentioned that you bought lottery tickets."

"All it takes is a dollar and a dream, yeah I remember saying that. Why?"

"Does that mean you're also an optimist?"

"I guess. I mean I try to look on everything from the bright side."

"Does it work?"

"Sometimes…is something wrong?" They had reached the door to her apartment building.

"No," forcing a smile, "I'll see you tomorrow okay?"

"Hey, wait up," grabbing her hand and pulling her back towards him, looking at her in earnest, "Stella, are you okay?"

She looked at his blue eyes and the worry in them.

"I'm fine Flack. It's just this news of Paul Richmond got me down."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. And you're right, nothing but bad news in the papers," smirking, trying to distract him. But he had seen it; she was going to say something else, but had changed her mind. He didn't know what was going on, but she looked so sad, it reminded him of how she looked the day he questioned her in the hospital after Frankie's attack. And like that day, he wanted to give her a hug. But before he figured out if it was appropriate or not she quickly pulled her hand away, thanked him for the burger and went into her building.

_Dammit_. Stella cursed, as she opened the door to her apartment. _That was too close. I almost told him. He knows something is up._ It had been a tiring day, emotionally as well as physically. The Luke Blade case had brought up so many feelings in her; one's she thought she had gotten rid of. And Mac had been so insensitive. It was amazing how concerned he could be at times, and then be totally clueless at others. But how would he know that his frank question would hurt her. And she still didn't know why he had asked. Was it out of curiosity for her feelings, or was he worried about Reed's? Nothing was ever clear with him and for all their years of friendship, she felt he would always remain a mystery to her. She started to run the bath, waiting for it to fill up while she had her dinner. She rarely drank, but to get over to Mac's tactlessness, she also had a glass of wine to go with her dinner. _I don't think I'll ever figure that man out. _It was just like when he insisted that she take time off after Frankie's attack, then on her first day back, told her that women who shoot once are more likely to do it again. Finishing her burger, she took the glass of wine to finish off in her bath. The beloved classical music CD was turned on before she took her clothes off then got into the tub. The hot water was just the thing for her aching muscles. And taking a sip of wine, she again thought of Mac and how worried he had looked. _Who knows what he's thinking._ Suddenly, she remembered Flack saying the same thing once. It was on a case, and the victim was playing poker before he was shot.

"_You play poker?" he had asked, with a mischievous smile._

"_Occasionally. You got a problem with that?" challenging him on to explain the look he had._

"_Yeah, you're physically incapable of keeping a straight face," still grinning._

"_Really," she had replied, irked._

"_Now Mac, there's a man with a poker face. Who knows what he was thinking." _

The comparison had mollified her. After all, she couldn't argue with something she knew only too well. In amusement, she thought that Flack certainly has his moments. What was it he said, looking on the bright side? It was one of those days when looking at the bright side was extremely difficult. They had caught a killer, who had initially been a victim of abandonment. Her best friend was clueless as to the effect of the case on her, and to top matters off, an ex-suspect had died of a terminal disease the same time she was waiting for her HIV's window period to be over so she could finally know if she was infected or not. Taking a bigger sip of wine, a tear pushed itself out of her eye and slid down her cheek, and for once, the female detective decided not to fight it. After all, if she expected to stay strong in public, venting out in private was the only option. Sid had been told out of fear for his safety when she gave him mouth to mouth. But no one else should know, no matter how nice it felt to have Sid thank her, and hug her. It felt so wonderful to be hugged like that, like he didn't care if she was HIV positive or not. And, horrified at the conclusion, she wanted to be hugged. The last time was after she picked up Sheldon from booking after Shane Casey set him up. It was very nice, but was done more out of relief at his being cleared, and more for his benefit than hers. Ironically, the last affectionate touch she remembered occurred around the same time as the most violent experience of her life. That day at the hospital, Don had said 'come here', given her a kiss (which she had returned) and had given her a huge bear hug. It was warm and solid and comforting. It was also extremely different from Mac's awkward sideways embrace after she informed him of her HIV status. She smirked; Mac wasn't used to comforting anyone; the awkwardness was actually kind of sweet. Besides, if this were last year, she was sure she would have been lucky if she got a pat on the shoulder. Peyton really was having an effect on him. At least he was trying to be emotionally available. But, he still had a long way to go, she thought ruefully.

Adjusting her position in the tub, a thought entered her head. Keeping the secret was going to be a challenge. Don was more observant than she liked. And apparently, his remark of her unable to keep a straight face wasn't without reason. _Well, I just have to work harder at it. After all, I managed to keep it to myself for two whole weeks before telling Mac. _She could still feel the texture of the young detective's hand in hers, and remember how nice it felt to just experience a friendly touch. It's been a long time, and his hand had felt so masculine. An odd flutter went through her as she suddenly remembered what it felt like to kiss his cheek. _Okay, so I'm feeling a bit lonely and vulnerable. But I won't tell him, no matter how sweet he is how worried he looks._ She didn't want him to know. But she couldn't entirely trust herself to not tell him. So she'd avoid seeing him after work for a while. That meant no Sullivan's and no diner. She'd still see him at work. And until she learned to keep a straight face, she'd be careful with him there as well. Or at least until she got the results of her test; whichever came first. Another thought entered her head. _I used to be much friendlier at work and treated everyone like family. It's not like I have anyone else. _It was a lesson she had learned long ago. As no nonsense as she was, she was also very affectionate. Always ready to pat someone on the back for doing a good job, hugging colleagues for giving her good news, treating them to dinner if they wrapped up a case quickly; that last was how Flack was recently introduced to her favorite diner. _Frankie made me a lot more inhibited but the old Stella is coming back. Note to self: get and give as many hugs as possible-except from Flack. _Finishing her wine, she reached down to set the glass on the floor, then let the lovely music of Pachelbel's Canon and the hot water calm her before bed.

Authors Note:

Before anyone accuses me of being off character, try to remember Stella in season one: draping an arm on Danny while teasing him for reading a woman's magazine, tapping Sheldon's cheek before leaving for a crime scene, kissing Mac in excitement after getting a break in a case; in season two, she tells Mac that she'll treat him if they solve a case in Corporate Warriors. I can't remember them all, but Stella has some moments which show she is a very affectionate, almost touchy-feely sort of person. I thought it was very interesting and ironic since she was an orphan and I'm going to explore that. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. I know I did .


	9. On

**On…**

Danny asked Stella for drinks after work. Lindsay was back, warmer and friendlier after the Montana trail was over. She had finally opened up to him and he was spending all of his free time-as well as some time during work-impressing her. But he cancelled a date with her to take Stella out. After all, the business that brought him here couldn't wait.

"So what's the occasion," Stella smiled, letting him know whatever it was, she appreciated his company. Heck, she could definitely use the friendship, and unfortunately Flack was a no-no these days. She missed him quite a bit, but Danny was just as good a friend. He was caring and sensitive and funny. Currently though, he was silent and sat swallowing, drumming his fingers on the table as if garnering the will to say something. Apprehension filled Stella.

"Danny? What is it?" Apprehension filled Stella who hoped it wasn't bad news related to his brother.

"Why didn't you tell me about Emery Gable?" And only two words came to mind: _Oh Hell_. She had misread him. He wasn't nervous, he was angry. No, pissed actually with a fair amount of hurt mixed in. And he couldn't speak because he was trying to control his temper. She started to say something to appease him; then remembered that no one was supposed to know. _Speaking of which,_ _how the hell did would he find out?!_ Testing the waters, she feigned ignorance.

"What to you mean?"

"You know what I mean Stella. That he was HIV positive, and that you got contaminated at his crime scene." He replied, his voice even huskier than usual, eyes searching hers. _Dammit. No way around this time. _

"I…" and nothing seemed to come out. Where should she start? _I don't want to be treated differently , I'm afraid of the results and until they come I want to pretend everything is okay and I can't do that if people know. I don't want to worry anyone in case it was nothing and if the test is positive then I need to deal with it before going around telling people. Yes that's a good one. But first... _

"How'd you know?"

"The labs printer got busted today so Mac told us to save anything we needed on the network then print it from other offices. It was late, you were the only one whose office wasn't locked but you weren't there. I figured it was okay, and then I saw the website…" he trailed off…, and Stella remembered. She had been on the internet when some results she was waiting for finally came in breaking the case she was on. In her rush to run with it, she must have forgotten to close the webpage.

"Stella how come you didn't tell me? I thought we were cool." She felt her eyes mist a bit but composed herself before answering.

"We are, Danny, I just didn't know if we were that close."

"What's that mean?"

"Well, it's a lot of information to lay on someone. And not everyone would want to be burdened with the knowledge."

"Stella, don't give me that. You knew I'd want to know. Heck, everyone who works here would want to know. This is just your stubborn independence making you think you should do this alone. Have you even told Mac?"

"I told Mac." She said defensively but that just made Danny more upset.

"I know he's your best friend, but we're friends too."

"We are," she agreed quickly, "it's just that he and I have been through a lot together."

"You mean you've been there for him so many times before that you figure its okay for him to be there for you for a change. It's not quid pro quo Stel. You don't have to help someone through a crisis before you can ask them to be there for you in yours."

"Danny it's not like that."

"Yeah it is. You never want to owe anyone anything. Well guess what, you'd be doing me a favor if you had told me. I would have been happy to be included in something real in your life, even if it was sweating over the results of an HIV test." Stella had no idea why Danny was so upset, but she was touched nevertheless; more so when she saw him turn away, rubbing his neck in embarrassment. Ironically, her new resolution to express and accept affection was the farthest thing on her mind as she got out of the booth, walked around the table, sat next to him and gave him a firm embrace that came as spontaneously as his small outburst. She didn't back away and in a couple of seconds his arms came around her and he buried his face in her hair and shoulder.

"I want to be there for you Stella. I care about you and can't stand that you had to go through this alone all this time," he mumbled in her hair. She smiled, rapidly blinking away the tears that developed far too easily these days. Keeping them in check she thanked God for giving her such a good friend.

"Thank you Danny. And I'm sorry." He let go and grinned at her, and though privately he was close to fighting back tears himself.

"It's alright. Just know that Mac isn't your only buddy. It's insulting to the rest of us you know."

"Really?" she said, her smile turning to its full glory. "Who exactly is the rest of you?"

"Well, besides me there's Sheldon. And I know Lindsay is crazy about you. Then of course Flack-"

"No."

"What?" Stella checked herself then started again.

"I don't want anyone else to know. You know Lindsay had a rough time in Montana. Then there was that whole Shane Casey ordeal Hawkes had to go through." Danny didn't miss the fact that she neglected to mention the blue eyed detective and called her on it.

"C'mon Stel, at least Don deserves to know, don't you think? Don't you two hang out?"

"Well, yeah, but only occasionally. Besides, he's had a lot on his plate since Dean Truby got arrested. Please Danny, I don't want anyone to know," she was resolute and Danny knew that anyone meant Flack specifically. He also knew that he wouldn't say anything. He wanted to prove to her that she could confide in him without having her personal life broadcasted and that he would respect her wishes.

"Anything you say."

"Thank you." And the heartfelt reply meant the world to him.

**Authors note:**

Okay, I swore I'd never ask, but I really need feedback specific to the last two chapters please. It would really help!


	10. On Suspicions and Avoidance part 1

**On Suspicions and Avoidance- part 1 **

(Spoilers up to and including, What Schemes May Come, season 3, episode 20)

_Stella: That leaves us with a medieval costume party_

_Flack: If that's this guy's story that was a 'killer' party. _

(quotes taken from aforementioned episode)

Game Night at Danny's place; as usual, he ordered pizza and Flack brought beer.

"Hey I'm surprised you have time for your old pal. What, is Lindsay working late tonight?"

"Stop being a wise-ass. You know I wouldn't miss this for anything." Actually, Lindsay had wanted to watch the game with them, but he told her that it was 'guy's only' and the only chance she has of joining in was if Flack got a girlfriend who was into sports too. It wasn't that he minded but it has been a long time since he and his buddy had hung out. Besides, he wasn't really sure what Don thought of his new girlfriend.

"Sure…sure. So how are things going with you guys? Everything okay?"

"It's cool. We're taking things slowly."

"That's probably a good idea, since you two work together." Things were quiet for a while before Flack expressed a thought that was bothering him for a while.

"Hey Mess?"

"Yeah?"

"Notice anything weird about Stella?"

"No, like what?"

"Well, I haven't caught her in a while, it's almost like she's avoiding me," he stated, cautiously.

"Maybe it's just you."

"It's not."

"Well, can you think of any reason why she would avoid you?"

"No," he fibbed, not wanting to disclose what happened the night he walked her home and what her behavior had been.

"Then she's not and it's probably just in your head. Why that would be is between you and the head. Now come on, the game's starting."

Flack let it go and shifted his attention to Danny's big screen T.V.

It wasn't until half time that he brought up the subject again. However, the information and the guarded manner he used to share it with Messer differed greatly from the candid musings of his mind.

"She seems almost morose these days," _She's barely giving me the time of day, unless it has to do with a case,_ "and she hasn't instigated going out after work for a while now." _The jokes that usually made her laugh, or at least smirk playfully, have dwindled to one syllable hums. _"And that in itself is weird- you know how much she loves hanging out after work." _Today's case was a perfect opportunity for her wisecracks. And I used every opportunity to joke with her, but she was missing her usual humor. I even went so far as to make a pun because I know how much she likes them. All I got was tiny chuckle. Her face doesn't seem to light up anymore._

"That's not true. She came with us to Sullivan's just yesterday. How come you weren't there?"

"I had a late shift. Guess you're right. We probably keep missing each other." he agreed quickly, realizing that what bothered him was that she never seemed to want to hang out with _him_ anymore.

"There's still something different about her." _It's because of that night. There was something there, she was going to confide something, but changed her mind. What was it? _But a more important question suddenly loomed over him…"

"Shit, let it go Flack. Can we just watch the freakin game?"

And he became only too happy to oblige Danny from fear that any more discussion on the subject would lead his friend to ask the obvious disquieting thought that pressed on: _Isn't this bothering me a little too much?_

Specialist


	11. On Living Stella

**On Living… Stella**

**(Spoilers up to and including, What Schemes May Come, season 3, episode 20)**

Stella was feeling happier than she had in a long while. Getting authorization from Mac to test her HIV status in the lab liberated her. It made her feel back in control and she was only sorry the choice hadn't been made earlier. With all the time she spent doing research on AIDS, she knew all about the option for a while now. The reason she hadn't utilized it was fear; that maybe waiting out the answer would be better than getting a horrific one she wasn't ready for. But after that day's case, the decision came easy. She knew she would never choose to stop living on her own. _Never mind the fact that I spent most of my childhood in an orphanage run by catholic nuns. It's just not in me to give up. _She had been through so much, but had come out every single time. If nothing else, Stella Bonasera was a survivor. _Besides, there are too many people I love. Too many things left to do. So many crimes to solve._

Feeling exhilarated by her decision, she decided to go for a walk before hailing a taxi to take her to her apartment. Leaving the building, she set off at a brisk pace, which spoke of her cheerful disposition. Then she remembered something else that had enlivened her that day.

Detective Donald Flack had been especially incorrigible, she reflected with a smile, remembering all the jokes he had made, even going so far as to reference characters from the King Arthur legend more than once. She could barely keep the laugh out of her voice when she politely answered him with controlled amusement. _He outdid himself in the fashion department too. Today's suit was singular, and the coat he had over it just fitted him perfectly. _It had made her acutely aware of just how good looking the crime fighter was. _I'm being ridiculous. He looks just as striking as he always had. _Ignoring the superfluous thought and its annoying effect on her, she made a more casual observation, which came exclusively from her love of fashion._ He should wear blue all the time; it really brings out his eyes. _She had almost told him too, but worried that the comment might lead to unwarranted flirting. It was bad enough that he sometimes used innuendos when joking around and while some would consider that flirting, she knew it was just him being him. Not that it was a common occurrence, but happened often enough that though usually she'd just give him an unimpressed smirk; recently she became worried about how it made her feel.

_Okay I'm blaming that gorgeous outfit for this. And I used to think his leather jacket was sexy. _

And she was suddenly given a more frivolous reason for wanting to stay alive. _I wonder if he can top today's outfit…._

Specialist


	12. On Living Mac

**On Living…Mac**

**(Spoilers up to and including, What Schemes May Come, season 3, episode 20)**

After Stella left, Mac remained in his chair for a while, lost in thought. She told him that she was ready for the answer. But was he? For a long time now, he had been able to honestly say that, once more, he went to work enthusiastically for love of the job, not just as an escape from the harsh reality of his wife's death. And more recently, work had become even more pleasant, thanks to the fact that he got to see his girlfriend every day. Girlfriend-that word was much easier to utter than before, however awkwardly. Peyton had illuminated his life in a way he never thought possible before; at least for anyone other than Stella. And it was painful that while things were getting better for him, they took a nose-dive for his best friend. He didn't like to consider what a positive diagnosis could mean for her, but couldn't help thinking what it would do to him. For a long time, Stella had been the only thing worth living for. It took five years for him to be able to pull himself out of the stupor Claire's death left him in, nd she had been there every step of the way; through all those late nights, calling to check up on him, looking when she didn't find him. Practically stalking him at one point when she knew how close he came to giving up. It got to where her worry almost cost them their friendship. He had lashed out at her; had been feeling smothered from her concern. But what he hated more than anything was that he knew she was justified. Even now, he hated to think how bad it had been, how close he had come to giving up. She had been his best friend for so long, but she was so much more. She was like his oxygen, his light. He knew how hard it must have been for her. She had tried everything, from sitting patiently with him for hours, pretending to read a book, to yelling at him when he got sick and was too depressed to go to the doctor. Then there were the really bad nights when he practically camped in church…and even worse nights.

Mac rubbed his eyes with both hands. He loved Stella, and suddenly wondered if he ever told her that. He had come close so many times. He remembered telling her that she was a strong person, that he wouldn't continue his job without her. But he never told her he loved her. _She knows_, he decided finally. Hearing a knock on his glass door, he moved his hands from his eyes and saw Peyton enter his office.

"Will you be much longer?" Smiling at her beautiful face, marred only by the bruise she got that day, he realized just how much he owed Stella. She had brought him back to life. Taught him how to live again, when for a long time, all he could do was exist.

"I still have some reports I need to finish."

"I take it then that I can't tempt into going out for dinner?"

"I'm sorry Peyton."

"It's fine. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait." He got up and caught her in a lingering embrace, before kissing the contusion on her forehead and followed it with a loving, almost chaste kiss on the lips. "You gave me quite a scare today. I'm glad you're okay." He watched as sweet surprise spread on her face.

"Thank you." Smiling shyly, she returned his kiss with one of her own before leaving.

One of the most important things Stella taught him was to count his blessings. Watching Peyton's retreating figure, he remembered the fear he felt that day when he was told someone had attacked her to steal a body from the coroner's truck. Had he ever been in doubt before, he knew now that Peyton had become very special to him. And he was happy for it.

But the most important person in his life was in danger, and this danger, he could do nothing about. He was relieved she came to terms with the grim possibility of her future, glad when without hesitation she vowed to live her life to the fullest. But it wasn't enough for him. _My best friend, my soul mate, my partner; you may be ready for the answer, but I know I most certainly am not._

Specialist


	13. On Suspicions and Avoidance part 2

**On Suspicions and Avoidance- part 2**

**(Spoilers up to and including, What Schemes May Come, season 3, episode 20)**

"Hey, Stella."

"I'm late for an autopsy, Danny. What's up?" She continued down the hall, gesturing for him to walk with her.

"You been weird around Flack?"

"No."

"He thinks you're avoiding him and really got on my case about it last night." Stopping, he looked left and right to make sure they were the only ones in the hall, before continuing in a low voice. "I still say you should tell him, but if you won't change your mind then stop acting like something is up."

"I'm not, and I'm not avoiding him," she argued, starting to walk again "It's just been a while since we were on the same case, but we had one together just last night; a knight in Central Park."

"Yeah, well, the next time you see him, try to act normal."

"I am normal," she protested, getting angry. He raised his arms in defense.

"Hey, I just thought you should know what he's been thinking." Danny followed her into the elevator. For once, it wasn't crowded. In fact, they were the only two in it.

"Okay, thank you." Stella pressed B, trying to hide her irritation at being found out. Danny had been on his way to the precinct but rode down with her to the basement.

"So how are you?"

"I'm fine."

"Stella. I know you gotta a temper, but it's been a while since you've flared up this quickly," he pointed out gently as they got out and walked down the hall. She slowed to a stop, and it was her turn to check the hall before speaking.

"The anti-virals have been giving me some trouble. Headaches, but nothing major," she revealed, keeping to herself that they sometimes got so bad at night, she couldn't sleep. The previous evening, she had actually cried from the pain and called her doctor who told her that it was a normal side affect of the meds and to take aspirin. She didn't get a chance to see if it did help because she finally passed out from the throbbing and the exhaustion it brought. But the PCR kit would arrive the next day. Adam promised to let her know the instant it came and the test would be done immediately; she'd finally know if she can stop taking the pills, or be forced to get used to them.

"You let me know if you need anything, okay?"

"Thanks," she replied, absentmindedly continuing on her way towards the coroner's office. Starting to get over the vexation at being read so easily, she was mortified to realize how oddly pleased it made her.

Danny looked at her departing figure, feeling that he knew the real reason why she got pissed off when he mentioned Flack's suspicions. A bittersweet look came upon him as he got back into the elevator and pressed G.

**Authors note:** I recently discovered that a serious headache can be one of the worst ailments anyone can get, ever. It keeps you from sleeping, no matter how tired you are and is painful enough to bring adults to tears.On a side note, this chapter ends the quadruple of chapters based on the events of the episode **What Schemes May Come. **I spent a lot of time on it, but there were so many opportunities there. And Eddie Cahill did look gorgeous in that amazing blue suit and coat. Seriously, watch the episode again if you don't believe me .


	14. On an Imperfect Present

**On an Imperfect Present: **

**(Spoilers up to and including, Past Imperfect, season 3, episode 21)**

"Hell of a day." Don stated. He was driving Mac back to the lab after they spent two hours at the precinct going through the events which led to the death of their suspect. Mac didn't reply but Flack hadn't expected him to. He had been caught in enough 'officer involved shootings' to know that you never did feel like talking after. And because there was so much more involved in this particular incident, there was that much more that Mac wouldn't want to talk about. For a second he wished Stella was here instead of him, but she had been busy collecting evidence from Katie Lawrence. Thank God they had found her in time- Stella would now be back at the lab, processing and storing the evidence. She knew, of course, what had happened; had been the one to urge an already-moving Don to run after Mac when he disappeared. The detective hadn't known if she was more worried about Mac or what Mac would do to Clay Dobson. Afterwards, he had phoned immediately to get her up to speed, adding assurances that he'd stay with the shocked CSI until he was done giving his report on the incident.

Silence prevailed throughout the rest of the drive. Flack followed Detective Taylor into the building until he stepped into his office and shut the door behind him. Feeling appropriately apprehensive, Don set off searching for Stella to let her know they were back and fill her in on the details of Mac's questioning. Turning around the corner which led to her office, he saw a sight through the glass that made him freeze in his tracks.

She and Danny were inside, and she had barely finished saying something when Danny uttered a joyful cry and gave her an exuberant hug. Smiling, she tried to push him away to finish her sentence, but instead of letting go, he tightened his embrace, lifting the tall woman clear off her feet, twirling her in the air in process. By now, Stella was laughing as well and Flack was completely caught off guard by how beautiful she looked. Suddenly, he realized how long it's been since he saw her in such high spirits. Unable to take his eyes off the two, he felt coldness creep in the pit of his stomach which resulted solely from the gratuitous display of sentiment. He would have given anything to know what was going on but felt that he had witnessed something he wasn't supposed to. Summoning every ounce of willpower, he put on a normal face and went inside to give them the news. Don probably should have felt guilty for ruining the good mood his friends were in, but the only guilt he felt came from how relieved he was for sobering them up. And by the time he got into his car to go home for the night, an accurate, albeit disconcerting idea of why he was so flustered by Danny's behavior had taken place in his mind. Thankfully, other important matters were at hand and he was able to put the thought away for later. He felt like the breath he took when he found out that Clay had killed again was still in him, it had driven him all day, motivating him to catch Dobson. The guy was dead now and good riddance. Don was only sorry for the predicament it put Mac in. But until he was able to sleep, the picture of Stella's flushed face and Danny's hugs remained on his mind and kept him from releasing the breath he had been holding all day.

**Authors Notes:** And the plot thickens! For such a short chapter, this was ridiculously hard to write. Please review as I need all the help I can get. Did anyone like the chapter from Mac's point of view? Starting now, I'll be taking a lot more liberties with the story. It will still center on the series' events but…anyway, you'll see. Let's just say I'll finally be able to justify having the story in the angst category. Don't say I didn't warn you .

Specialist.


	15. On Cold Revelations

**On Cold Revelations: **

**(Spoilers up to and including, Cold Reveal, season 3, episode 22)**

When Stella enlisted Danny's help for the case from Philly, he was clueless as to what it would lead him to discover about her. He supposed she chose him in particular because of his awareness to the results of her PCR test and that, consequently, clarifying her DNA in CODIS to him would be simpler than to someone else.

The young CSI found the predicaments that continuingly faced his co-worker unbelievable. Only a couple of days ago, he was spinning her in celebration over her being cleared of AIDS, now, her name has come up in a cold case. At first, the foremost concern was getting his partner's name cleared, even though he didn't seriously consider that Scotty Valens saw her as a viable suspect. But that only lasted until a photo of her was found in one of the victim's camera films. Danny watched in confusion as the indignant detective harassed Stella, trying to compel information. Unable to remain quiet, he stepped in.

"Look, Valens. If she says she doesn't know, she don't know." The Philly cop's subsequent threat really rattled but seeing his friend worked up got to him even more; she looked worse than when the threat of AIDS had been looming..  
"Stella look at me," he gently commanded, needing to see her eyes, "What's haunting you?"

"I don't know Danny, that's the problem. I just don't know."

And clearly, it terrified her. He recollected how his own rendezvous with the Tanglewood boys came back to bite him in the ass; the icy fear still prevailed and he didn't want her to go through the same thing. Not if he could help it. He also didn't want her dealing with the irate Valens until the man had reason to be more civilized to her. So when an address came up (after working like crazy to edit and compile the photos) Danny didn't tell her and instead went with Scotty alone. Incredulousness filled him when the latter asked the foster mother, Marilyn, if she knew a Stella Bonasera; _He's wasting his time. There's no way in the world she would know her._ But Marilyn answered positively; that she had been a foster child. The discovery kept Daniel Messer numb throughout the rest of the interview.

"Did you know?" Valens asked bluntly. The two were in the car, going to meet Stella who told them she was having lunch.

"Know what?"

"That Bonasera had been in foster care?" and Danny was almost embarrassed to tell the truth.

"No."

"How long have you been working together?"

"Over five years."

"And she never brought it up. Don't you think that's unusual?"

"Not really. Most of us don't talk about our personal lives," he replied, cussing himself for never bothering to find out, at the same time feeling hurt she never volunteered the information. But his tone didn't betray these thoughts. Instead it let Valens know he was unwilling to say anything else regarding the topic; if the Philadelphia Detective wanted more, he'd have to ask Stella himself. And when he did, Danny was too preoccupied in hearing her deductions and worrying over the implications of the new information to defend against Valens's assumptions. He trusted her wholeheartedly, but the fact that they had worked together all this time without him ever knowing that she had no family made him wonder what else he didn't know. The guy's theory could even be true. Maybe her blood sister did die at the hands of her foster dad. But if that were so, why? And where did Stella fit in all this? He recalled the kid that had been following her a couple of months ago. Was he another ghost from her past?

DSFDSFDSFDSFDSFDSFDSDSF

Regardless of the bickering they had about Truby, Flack felt Mac deserved a heads up on what was going down concerning the Dobson incident. During the police questioning at the precinct, Mac's manner was of quiet self-assuredness. The younger Detective thought it in-appropriate considering the graveness of the matter. Maybe Mac thought too highly of himself that he felt confident no one would ever question his actions; or perhaps because Taylor was a scientist and was depending on the evidence. Either way, Don predicted Mac was in for an ugly wake up-call. And it came. The Crime Lab's head was now facing the possibility of an internal investigation. But that still didn't constrain his frustrating sanctimonious attitude. His only concern was how wronged he thought he was by Sinclair and Gerard. Flack was acquainted with both of them to know that the investigation was not unjustified and the only harm it would do to Mac was a week or so of bad publicity. On the other hand, bad publicity had a way of sticking around forever, even when the receiver was exonerated and he felt sorry for Mac. So he briefed him.

"You know Mac, if the department decides to go through with their internal investigation, I'm gonna have to answer questions. All I know is what you told me when I got up to the top."

"Like I told the DA I did not toss Clay Dobson off that roof. This whole investigation is nothing but a big political show." _There it is again, the calm indifference. He doesn't realize how serious this is_.

"Yeah, regardless, the media is soaking the story up and by the time they're done with it your word may not be good enough Mac."

With that, Flack left, hoping Mac would think over his input for a while._ I'm no CSI, but he is, and of all people should know how important proof is in cases like these._ There was no evidence on the roof to either prove or disprove Mac's story. _Is that why he's so cool? He thinks there's not enough_ _evidence to build a case against him? He doesn't get it. We're cops. We're guilty until proven innocent. But I guess he never got into any trouble with the higher- ups before. That would explain why he doesn't seem to know how this works. _

Flack resolved to continue giving him advice until the mess was over; Mac could certainly use it. Of course, whether he chose to apply it was a different matter.

**Authors note:** I know most of the readers are waiting for Fiesta scenes but please be patient. It might take longer than many of you want but if I'm going to do this, it's going to be done right (i.e. as logically as possible) and hopefully you guys will love it all the more because of that .

Specialist


	16. On a Cold Night

**On a Cold Night**

**(Spoilers up to and including, Cold Reveal, season 3, episode 22- quote from that episode)**

_Stella: Sometimes you don't choose your own hell, it's chosen for you. And you do what you need to survive. _

The night's air was cool. Too cool for that time of year, and most of the urban population who had forgone their winter overcoats for light jackets were regretting that decision as they scurried to their respective homes, eager to get out of the bitterness. Except for one, tall, solitary woman striding down the street her heels making loud, melancholy clicks in the city's usual bustle. She felt the weather was perfect. Had it been warmer, it would have made the glacial atmosphere of her soul stand out in sharper relief. Thankfully, the slight wind was chilly enough to match her disposition, which resulted in a highly welcomed overall numbness.

Stella was experiencing a phenomenon even the happiest of people get at least once in their lifetime. It was no stranger to her, but hasn't visited in ages; a lifetime ago, to be precise, when she was a different person. Not Stella Bonasera, member of the NYPD, but Stella Bonasera, lost, unwanted street urchin; an invisible entity, barely known to herself.

She never knew her parents. So when she was transferred from Marilyn's foster home to St. Basil's orphanage, her transition wasn't as traumatic as other children who had lost their parents. She had missed both Mindy and her foster mother terribly, however, like all children, she was adaptive and coped quite well and only felt occasional pangs of jealousy when those kids who knew their parents talked about them. Of course, there was also the frequent bullying from teenaged orphans who had no other outlet for their anger. But regardless of all the downs, she had been a fun-loving, precocious, and fearless child who loved to learn.

But that child turned into a thoughtful, introverted young woman during her University years. Unlike her privileged peers whose parents' money provided their education, she had been accepted on a scholarship and worked at a McDonald's for her spending money. The only thing she knew of her heritage was that her mother was Greek. But her last name was Italian. So, she made use of the college's elective language courses and studied both just to feel like she belonged to something. She borrowed books on Mediterranean cooking from the library and photocopied recipes, dreaming of someday being able to afford the imported ingredients; wondering all the time, is this what they ate? Did they like this type of cheese, that brand of olive oil? Of course, there was no proof that her folks were first generation Europeans. They may even have been Americans who couldn't even speak Greek or Italian; unlikely, but still possible. The point is that she had no way of knowing. And at times it brought her to the brink of insanity.

There was no time for Frat parties or even boyfriends. The curriculum was tough; but that was perfect for her. Gaining wondrous knowledge kept her from comparing the brand name jeans her peers wore with the hand-me-downs she brought with her from the St. Basil's. For a long time, things were okay. Not good, but okay. The lectures were enjoyable and the Professors lauded her participation; a mixed blessing since it caused her alienation by less enthusiastic classmates. But it had been fun.

Then came graduation; and it was the end of the line for her.

_Giving in to self pity is way too easy sometimes. I guess It's just one of those nights where all you remember is every single bad experience you've ever been through and not one good thing about your life._ Seeing Mindy again under such adverse circumstances, froze Stella inside. And though she told herself over and over how lucky she was, that she just had a narrow escape from AIDS; an ugly thought shoved itself into her head. _So what if you die; no one would miss you. You just lost your single family member._ And grasping desperately for a positive thought, she countered; Mac would. _Yeah, but where is he? Too busy feeling sorry for himself because he couldn't even arrest a guy without making a mess of things. The only thing he wants to talk about now is how affronted he because of how everyone is against him. Never even thinks of asking you how you're doing. Still doesn't even know the results of your PCR test and never thought to ask. Where is he when you need him?_ And despite his being more sensitive now than in the past, Stella knew that he could never give her what she needed. True, he stood by her when she thought she was being stalked; was more caring than ever when she told him of her AIDS scare. She attributed it all to his now having a girlfriend and relearning how to be a considerate friend, something she sorely missed ever since his wife died. But he was getting better. _Sure, but not for you_.

Stella was bone weary; the kind of ache which came from emotional trauma that was even worse than bodily fatigue but when coupled with it left you wondering how you were still conscious. She should have gone straight to bed, but knew, on a night like this, sleep wouldn't come. Instead childhood reveries of being rejected by prospective parents, of the night Claire died, Mac's shock, all the times he screamed at her that he didn't need her, and of Frankie's attack, would serve as some form of sick late-night entertainment. Like being forced to watch a movie you hate; only this time the movie was of the most devastating moments of your life.

Unwilling to face that gloom, at least not sober, Stella hit the nearest bar and ordered vodka. She sipped it slowly, knowing that as soon as she finished it she would order another and, still managing to feel responsible even in this situation, wanted to delay that as much as possible to lessen the risk of showing up to work with a hangover. So she drank leisurely at prolonged intervals. Her eyes kept watering though and the instant she pondered disregarding her conscience's warning and just get full blown drunk, a hand tapped her shoulder. She turned and saw Danny's clear blue eyes fixated on her.

"I was hoping I'd find you."

"Hey, Danny," she replied, caught between being happy to see someone, anyone, who cared enough to just stop and say 'hi', and between wanting to give in to her misery. The choice was taken from her when he sat down next to her.

"Rough day?"

"I've had better," suddenly feeling low again and falling silent.

Danny observed as the unsure smile that lit her face when she saw him wavered and fell into a frown again. But now that the he found her, the bespectacled young man decided to say what was on his mind. Besides, he was too wound up to keep quiet.

"You know, Stella, whenever I think I finally know you, I'm shown otherwise."

"What?"

"How come you never told me you were an orphan?" And Stella decided. _Screw this._ She'd get drunk. But at home, with no upset Danny making her feel guilty about having never depressed people with the sad story of her existence.

"It just never came up." Downing her half-full glass, she threw money on the counter and got up without a word.

Danny let his head bang when he put it down on the counter. He had realized his mistake as soon as he had spoken. Instead of sounding casual, caring (as intended) a tiny hint of indignation managed to be revealed in his tenor. His head remained on the counter as he deliberated what to do next. But, as always, his body was way ahead of him and in a second was out the door, following her.

"Stella, wait up." She kept walking, hunched against the wind.

"Stella!" He caught up to her, grabbed her elbow to stop her, but seeing her furious eyes, let go immediately, raising both hands in the air; not wanting to aggravate her any further.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay. That didn't come out right. I wanted to ask to see if you were okay," his concerned words misting into white puffs in the air. But her icy demeanor didn't thaw one bit.

"I'm fine Danny. I'll see you tomorrow," leaving.

_FUCK! _Incensed with himself and so wound up he felt like tearing off his own head, Danny jogged most of the way to his apartment, hoping to blow some off some steam. He got home, exhausted, threw his sweaty clothes into the hamper and jumped in the shower. The tepid water cooled his sweltering body, but not the scorching self-disgust.

_I screwed up. I know how proud and independent she is. But I still went in there, "How come you never told me?" Like a hurt puppy begging for scraps. That's sounds like a fucking whiny kid! If someone said that to me, I'd walk away too._

Toweling off, he remembered the delicate way she always used when she tried to help him out. Last year, when he grumbled about Louie calling him after two years of silence, she simply stated that he was family and gently suggested he call him back to see what he wanted. _That time, I'd been the one to bring up the issue, so maybe it didn't count. _But there was also his Psych evaluation after the Minhaus shooting. Aiden, God rest her soul, had been bugging him about it all day. Danny was done and was about to go home but didn't want to before telling Mac it was finished. Feeling jittery with nervousness, he went into the locker room to calm himself down first. There he saw Stella, wearing an unbelievable black dress that left way too little for the imagination. She was a tall woman, so it goes without saying that she had long legs, but Danny never expected to see them as beautifully displayed as in that short skirt, which was also slit up on the sides.

She pulled her head out of her locker, where she had been getting her purse out, to see who came in. When she laughed, he realized that he was gaping at her. Closing his mouth, he gesticulated.

"That's quite a dress."

"Thank you," pleased, "What are you still doing here?"

"I came to get my phone," he replied automatically.

"The one you're holding in your hand?"

"Oh, yeah," mentally kicking himself. "I'll just leave."

"Hey, wait up," she sat down at the bench and gestured for him to do the same. "Come here." He obeyed, curious as to what she wanted.

"Aiden tells me you did your psych evaluation today."

"Yeah," and thought of ways to get back at the Brooklyn girl.

"Did you talk to Mac about it yet?" Now he started thinking of ways to thank Aiden, as he realized it would probably be a good idea to get some advice from Stella. After all, she knew the boss more than anyone.

"I was just going to. But I'm not really sure what to say."

"How about: I saw the shrink, you'll get a report any day now." He couldn't help but smile at the straightforward way she put it.

"I can do that, but he's pretty pissed at me and I'm not sure I blame him. I'm worried about how long that will last. I'm thinking maybe I should take this chance to see if everything's okay, if we're cool."

"Well then, just say: I saw the shrink. Are we cool now?" And this time Danny laughed. "Hey, I'm serious," she insisted, "If you don't ask him straight out, you'll never get an answer. He'll just hedge." She then looked him straight in the eye. "Besides, I know you can't rest until you find out where you stand with him. You like him and hate being at odds with him."

"Shit, Stella. I'm glad you weren't the shrink that checked up on me today." Laughing, she stood, pulling him up with her. Patting his shoulder, she opened the locker room door for him.

"Go on, I was going to say good night, but I'll wait till you're done."

"You mean, make sure I don't chicken out right?

"Exactly," she stated stoutly, "Now go," giving him a small push.

He went, and although the answer he got from Mac ("We'll see") wasn't the one he hoped for, it was still better than not knowing where they stood. And it was thanks to her. Then there was the manner she handled him after Louie's attack. After his being put on administrative leave because of conflict of interest, she had to work on their case alone so he didn't see her all that day. But when Stella next saw him at work, she didn't say anything. It was almost like she knew he didn't want to talk about it. Instead, she bought him coffee, the good stuff most guys would never admit they enjoyed, with whipped cream and caramel. It made him smile and he'd taken it for what it was; a gesture to make his day a bit better. And it did.

He wanted to give something back, wanted to be there for her, but didn't know how. And now, instead of consoling her, he got her even more upset. Looking at himself in the mirror, he spoke out loud.

"Why do I always mess things up?"

Meanwhile, Stella had taken a detour. Instead of heading home, she cut her way through the chilly night to the chapel at St. Basil's orphanage. Reminiscing on all the nights spent there when she was young, she suddenly got a clear vision of all there was to be thankful for. Ironically, her old hiding place (from bullies) which should only have bad feelings to offer, caused her to remember other, happier ones as well. And strangely enough, she became, like she told Danny, fine.

Because in his own way, he showed her that she was important. That someone would miss her. Heck, he was so angry at just never knowing that she was an orphan. That showed how much he cared about her. And others did too. Flack's hug at the hospital, Mac saying he wouldn't do the job without her, Sid's flirting: images came back to her in sweet apparition that left grateful tears trailing down her face. And she remembered.

Yes, no one came for her at her graduation ceremony. True, she spent all her meager savings from flipping burgers part time for four years on a single psychiatric session afterwards. But she had gained something in return.

"I want to belong somewhere, to anything. Somewhere I can do good and feel needed and not feel guilty for needing someone in return. I want people to see me," she had wept desperately, "I want to feel alive and I don't know how."

The shrink had regarded her closely. Then stated: "You should be a cop."

"What?"

"You should be a cop."

"I just graduated with a Bachelor's degree in Science."

"So what? They need scientists at the PD you know. But I still think you should be cop. You'd be good at it."

"How can you tell?"

"For one thing, you're not a quitter. I get people who come in here telling me they want to end their life, whether they really intend to do it or not, and whine about the most mundane and trivial problems you can imagine. Then you come in."

"Isn't wanting to be seen trivial," she pointed out miserably.

"Are you kidding? It's the sole purpose of our existence, whether we admit it or not. If not anything else, all anyone ever wants is to be acknowledged. Children thrive on their parents' attention. We can even make an educated guess how a child will turn out depending on how much, and of course the type, of attention they get from their parents. They seek their regard and acknowledgment. For you, of course, the need is even greater because you never had any. But you still seek it, bravely, honestly and openly. You're ashamed of needing it, understandably so; most people wouldn't understand because what you need is something they've taken for granted all their lives. But don't be ashamed, be proud. You've made it this far on your own."

Stella, who had been listening calmly the whole time, was in danger of having another melt down from the man's words.

"But I don't think I can do this anymore," a silent tear running down her cheek.

"And you shouldn't. That's why I'm telling you to be a cop. Not only are you emotionally apt for it," she snorted, "don't make fun, you are, trust me, but the partnerships which come with the job, and feeling that you are part of something beneficial to society, will satisfy both your need to be useful and your need for acknowledgment. Many cops become cops for that purpose. You'll fit in there much better than at some fancy lab full of pretentious shmucks whose only concern in a job is the money they'll get, not the 'good' they do."

She had thought it over, and found that the idea appealed to her enormously. So she joined the police academy. And it had been her salvation. It was tough, it was competitive, and it was amazing. She loved the challenge, loved the company of her fellow rookies, loved everything about it. After working on the beat for a year, she started to have bigger ambitions and transferred to narcotics, where her background in science was in high demand. She later attended an evening graduate program, working towards a Master's Degree.

And here she was now. In the PD, she found a family, and in her work, she fulfilled her soul. A detective and a scientist; she was everything she wanted to be.

For half an hour, she stayed at the chapel, meditating away any residual bad thoughts, thanking God for friends, and praying for the strength to remember all she was blessed with.

Then, feeling quite serene, she went home, straight to bed. Tomorrow, she'd phone a flower store and send a bouquet, like she did on the day of her graduation from the academy, to the shrink she saw only once in her life. Then, the first chance she has alone with Danny, she'd thank him. Knowing his restless nature, he would be feeling worried and guilty and she had to let him know that she appreciated his concern. Satisfied with the decision, she sank into the warmth of her blanket and closed her eyes.

**Author's note: **I tried something different this time and ended up with a longer chapter than usual. I hope you enjoyed it and would love to hear your feedback.


	17. On Tensions

**On Tensions **

Don knew something was up the moment he picked up the two CSI's at the lab. Danny was practically jumpy with anxiety. That was usually the case when the hot-headed scientist had done something to piss off Mac. _But that hasn't happened in a long time._ _Besides, his partner today is Stella. Why would he be nervous around her?_ An alarming possibility came to mind, along with a mental picture of their embrace in her office a few days ago-for what felt like the hundredth time. Again, he cleared his mind of both and concentrated on doing his job. Parking the car near the crime scene (a 7 eleven parking lot), he waited as the criminilists got out of the car with their kits.

"I'm gonna go question the witnesses who were decent enough to stick around," nodding towards a few people standing around the vicinity of the store's entrance. "I'll let you know if I get anything that might help your search."

"Thanks Flack." _Now that's weird._ Stella looked happy to see him go. Danny on the other hand, had a 'deer caught in the headlights' expression. Telling his hypersensitivity to shut the hell up already, Don made his way to the nearest witness. Upon establishing that he had no pertinent information to offer, the Detective sent him on his way and glanced at the two scientists. Stella had gone to where Danny was processing some blood on the store's outer wall and said something. He shrugged and put the swab back in his kit. Then he stood up, looking left and right, anywhere but at Stella, until she put her hand on his cheek to still his nervous motions, and turned his head to make him look at her. She said something in earnest, nodding her head at him as if making sure he understood. The younger man smiled and then raised his right hand to hold hers on his cheek. Mischievously, he kissed it, and she pulled away, swatting at him, her voice raising enough for Flack to discern the indignant shrill, but not enough to make out the speech. Danny's words however, were loud and clear.

"I couldn't help it, I wanted to see the look on your face," he laughed uproariously. She shoved him away good naturedly, and blushing, went back to where she left her kit to continue processing.

Suffice to say, Flack was in a bad mood for the rest of the day and was terse with everyone, including his puzzled friends.

"Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed today." Stella told him at one point.

"It obviously wasn't you," was his curt reply. Hurt, she nevertheless rallied.

"I get. You want be left alone. I'll let you know when we've got a suspect," she stated, tone full of detached professionalism.

When they did catch the theif, Flack's contempt was particularly viscous, so much so that Danny was glad when he finally confessed to the crime so that could take him to booking and can finally leave.

Being around Flack that day had been wearisome. Messer didn't expect to have a fun day because of how badly he thought he handled Stella the night before. But she had taken care of things the second they were alone. That morning, at the crime scene, she thanked him for his concern and told him how much she appreciated it, and him. Blown away from her sincerity, and the relief it brought him, he needed to do something to gain equilibrium. So he kissed her hand and watched with glee the look on her face; a mixture of utter shock and embarrassment. That he was able to embarrass Stella- the same Stella who would drape her arm on his shoulder while offering beauty tips, the one who kissed Mac just because she got a break on a case, who gave random hugs -the fact that a simple kiss on the hand is all it took to embarrass her was hilarious to Danny. It set him off laughing uncontrollably. Even now, he couldn't help but smirk at the memory. _Apparently, she's not as used to receiving affection as she is giving it. _

The moment had foretold a great day. But Flack had ruined that with his attitude. All day he had acted like a bullet was stuck in his ass. Beleaguered, the dark blond had guessed a fight with the old man might be the reason for his friend's anger. Knowing Don wouldn't want to talk about it, he just gave him space. But there was still a chance to end the day as well as it had started. Grinning, Danny made his way to the lab where he was meeting Lindsay. They had a date.

Even after finishing booking the suspect, Flack found that his frustration still hadn't been adequately released. So after work, he went to take his aggression on the YMCA's punching bag. He'd also see if his usual group of kids was around. They had a game coming up and he promised he'd stop by and join them in a practice session. As it turned out, after he was done with the bag, he was pretty beat and his hands were so sore he put ice on them. The kids had to content themselves with his only giving them pointers from sidelines.

**Author's Note:** This was incredibly fun to write. I hope it was as fun to read.

Specialist.


	18. On Letting Go

**On Letting Go**

Danny walked into Sullivan's and caught a glimpse of Flack's back at the far corner of the bar. And for the first time since their acquaintance, he was less than happy too see him. He even pondered leaving for a second except he was waiting for Lindsay to meet him here; they had dinner plans elsewhere. So he joined his friend, hoping the perpetual dark mood he seemed to be in these days had lightened a bit.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself."

_Obviously it hasn't._ The reply was laced with an almost malicious bite. And Danny had had enough.

"You know Flack, you've been real tough to hang around these days."

"Then don't hang around," he shot back, but seeing the wounded look on Danny's face made Don add in a lighter tone, "I've just had a lot on my mind" noncommittally, taking a drink of beer, hoping Danny would go away.

"Well, we all have but you don't see us chewing off everything that breathes. Take Stella for example."

"What about Stella?" Don asked his attention finally caught.

"Well she's probably had it the toughest this year."

"How so?" Danny sighed, knowing he'd be in trouble if he said too much.

"Well, a few months ago, there was this kid who was stalking her. I chased him around but he got away. She didn't know who he was and told me to forget about it but I could tell she was upset." Don mulled the information for a while then stated flatly.

"So what's the big deal? C'mon Messer, stop with the hedging. You know more about Stella than you're letting on."

"Well, there's other stuff too but she's not up to sharing. But believe me, it's been bad." Flack stared then got up.

"Screw you Messer. I've got enough on my plate without all this secrecy. Newsflash: people don't like thinking about stuff they're clueless about. Next time you wanna talk, try choosing a topic you can actually talk about." And with that last scathing remark, he left.

It wasn't that Danny blamed Don for his anger at being left out of the loop with regards to their mutual friend, but irritably thought that the reaction was nonetheless excessive and uncalled for.He tried to brush off the cause of it as stemming from family problems. But although that was entirely possible, Danny knew it wasn't the only reason for the provocation. He empathized, but not enough to do anything to help his friend. It was hard to be sympathetic towards him when he had, however unintentionally, succeeded at something Danny himself had failed to do. The fact that Flack was oblivious to the victory was irrelevant. No matter how much time passed, Danny didn't think he'd ever forget. It still hurt.

"Hey, stranger." Lindsay sat down on the stool Flack had vacated.

"Montana," he stated, basking in her sweet smile. As if in retaliation to their date a few nights ago, they've been put on separate cases all week. For three days they've barely seen each other.

"I ran into Flack on his way out. He seemed angry. Is something wrong?" Seeing her cute face, Danny marveled at how quickly everything else became inconsequential. And he was hit by a sudden, rare, urge.

"Come here," taking her hand he led her to a vacant area, at a corner of the bar.

"What?" Her soft brown eyes were surprised, but there was also faint excitement there. Not bothering to answer her, he called out to the bartender.

"Hey Frankie, do me a favor. Play something we can dance to." Lindsay's eyebrows shot to her hairline.

"All I've got is what I've got. In case you haven't noticed, this isn't a dance club." The man answered. But he was only teasing. That corner was left vacant of tables and chairs to accommodate irregular and impromptu mini dance parties that ensued when the cops who frequented the bar made a particularly good bust. Lindsay didn't know that and was just as stunned as Danny wanted her to be.

"Give it your best shot, pal." As a slow, unfamiliar beat started, Danny lowered his head and looked at him over the rims of his glasses.

"What the hell is this?"

"Stolen, by Dashboard Confessional. Now shut up and dance." Detective Monroe laughed at the scandalized expression on her boyfriend's face.

"I was hoping for something a little more upbeat," he admitted, ruefully.

"I kind of like it," she stated, pulling him close, starting to sway to the gentle beat, as the chorus started and Danny started to hear the words.

_**You have stolen my heart.**_ Smiling, he put hands on her waist, as she brought hers around her neck, looking him in the eyes.

"I guess it'll have to do," he stated, making a big show of giving in.

_**You have stolen my heart**_.

Both were enjoying their first dance together. And when the beat managed to pick up its pace a tiny bit, so did the couple. Danny even gave Lindsay a spin once, ignoring her protests that it wasn't that kind of song, grinning from ear to ear. Most of the time though, he kept one arm around her waist, holding her hand in his other one, and by the time the music slowed back down, he felt like he was in a trance.

_**Sleep well.**_ He was mesmerized by her.

_**Sleep well.**_ She leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

_**Sleep well.**_ Before she could pull back, he caught her mouth.

_**Sleep well.**_ The kiss lasted forever.

_**You have stolen… you have stolen…, you have stolen my heart.**_

He finally came up for air, resting his forehead on hers, eyes closed, reining himself in as they continued to sway gently to the music.

_**You are the best one of the best ones.**_ It was their deepest kiss yet.

_**We all look like we feel.**_ At that moment she knew.

_**You have stolen my,**_ He was the one.

_**You have stolen my,**_ She put her head on his shoulder

_**You have stolen my heart. **_Felt how his heart beat as quickly as hers.

They stayed still a bit, after the song ended, regarding each other. Feeling blown away by all that he was feeling, a lone thought entered Danny's mind.

_Maybe I can finally let go. _

Before they left Danny gave the smug Frankie a large tip.

**Authors note:** That was too sweet to write. I'm going to go brush my teeth now. This chapter is dedicated to obso99 whose amv on YouTube introduced me to this pretty, pretty, song and inspired the romance in this chapter. I'm starting to experiment a bit with the story and hope readers will continue with their helpful feedback.

Specialist.


	19. On Mac's Internal Investigation

**On Mac's Internal Investigation**

(Spoilers up to and including, ...Comes Around, season 3, episode 23)

The next day, Danny stopped by the precinct before going to the Lab. He decided to take a page out of Stella's book and attempt to resolve Don's umbrage from the previous night first thing. As always with Danny Messer, guilt had a big hand in the making of the choice and without giving himself time to reconsider, he walked straight up to Flack's desk saying the first thing that came to his mind.

"So, Mac's trial. It's crazy right?" Looking at Danny's hopeful stance, Don couldn't help but feel his temper evaporate. The guy always had that effect on him; he could never stay angry at Danny. _He's like a brother that way_, Don though fondly, _Not like my own jack-ass, but like, a favorite, younger brother. I have no right to be irritated; the guy doesn't even know why I'm pissed._ Of course, there was no way in hell Don was going to tell him when he hadn't acknowledged the reason himself. _Still, it's not fair to keep treating him like crap. He didn't do anything, _So he answered politely, accepting the unofficial peace offering.

"Yeah. You gonna testify today as well?"

"Yup. I got called," Danny replied, slowly breathing out his relief. _Good, he's not mad anymore._

Don regarded his friend, feeling like a total scumbag as he too-late realized the bad timing of his hostile behavior. _He's probably worried sick about Mac, and then I start acting like a total asshole._ From his intimate knowledge with the man, he knew that handling pressure was not Danny's strong point. _These past few days couldn't have been easy for him,_ he thought contritely.

"You know we can't discuss anything before we take the stand, but how about meeting up at Sullivan's once we both finish our testimonies? Compare notes? If we have time I'll even challenge you to a game of pool?" Don suggested, vowing to make up for his behavior. And there it was. Danny's 'Thank God I'm off the hook' grin.

"You're on."

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Flack couldn't believe how Mac had simply walked out of court. He tried to convince him to stay, saying that the department couldn't afford to lose him; a subtle way of reminding him that he could possibly lose his job over this. But as usual, Mac didn't hear it. He was far too affronted to think clearly.

"This isn't about the department. It's about me. They're calling me a murderer in there. I'm not going to hang around to listen to that."

So Flack thought of someone else who might have better luck convincing him. Flack wanted to discuss Mac's irrational behavior with Stella sometime before he took the stand. But because of their current high profile case (it wasn't every day a star tennis player was suspected of murder) it slipped his mind until the next day when he was in court, waiting to give his testimony. There was no time to phone her; he could be called in at any minute now. _It'll have to wait until after I'm done. Besides, I'd much rather have this conversation in person. _

"Now there's a detective with a good head on his shoulders," Don looked up to see Inspector Gerard and the Chief of Police walking towards him, "A guy who knows where his loyalties lie," Gerard continued. _Talk about being obvious. _

"Chief," Flack greeted them in order of superiority, "Inspector how are you," shaking his former Captain's hand next.

"Good."

"So what is this I hear about Taylor walking out in the middle of opening statements," Sinclair said, looking as if he found the news as delicious as a piece of apple pie, and he couldn't wait for more. Trying to sound as neutral as possible, Flack defended Mac.

"I think that's his right sir. I don't think he's obligated to be there." He saw them exchange a look. "Look I know Mac a long time. The department questioning his integrity, it's been hard on him." Flack glanced at Gerard, willing him to understand Mac's point of view.

"Well not as hard as this whole mess has been on the department," Sinclair said, righteously, "A man died in police custody, handcuffed."

"Don's smart; knows how to do the right thing," Gerard put in, giving the detective a pat on the shoulder. And Don looked back at him, trying to read his eyes. _Did he say it to appease Sinclair, or was he trying to coach me as a witness? The right thing? Last time he said that was when I explained the cause of Truby's arrest to him. And I never knew if he meant it. Was he alluding to the way I handled the incident in a good way? Ttelling me to continue what I've always done, or was he referring to it sarcastically; warning me of repeating my mistake? _He didn't get a chance to infer what Gerard meant because Sinlair started speaking. When the Chief speaks, you give him your undivided attention. So, he tore his eyes away from Gerard. As it was, Don would have gotten Sinclair's message even if he hadn't been looking at him; his words spoke loud and clear.

"That's important, because the outcome of a hearing like this can have a profound effect on the careers of many people, for years to come. From a powerful chief, to a lowly third grade detective."

_Talk about putting someone in their place._ Flack watched them walk away, knowing that whatever the hell either of them expected of him, it wouldn't affect his testimony. _It would, however, effect my opinion of them; and subsequently, decide which method I need to use to handle them in the future._

"Detective Flack, you're being called."

"Coming." _I'll have to think about it later. _

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_That was beyond bad._ Flack called Stella the instant he left the courtroom.

"Bonasera."

"Hey, Stel. It's Flack."

What's up?"

"Mac."

"Oh."

"Can you meet me?"

"Okay? When?"

"Now. The Starbucks nearest to the lab."

"Give me fifteen minutes to finish up here.

"I'll order your regular."

"Thanks."

In exactly fifteen minutes Stella joined Flack. He handed her a steaming mug. He hadn't gotten anything for himself.

"I take it you finished your testimony. Didn't go well, huh?"

"Can you try talking sense into the guy? I mean, he's refusing to sit through his own trial. Earlier I had Sinclair asking me about it like it was the best news he's had since he made Chief.

"Yeah. He's not being very smart about this is he," she asked rhetorically.

"Maybe you can get him to talk to Sinclair? Work this out outside of court."

"Well, Mac is not a big fan of sucking up."

"Are you implying I am?"

"Touchy aren't we?" Stella crossed her legs, and leaned back a bit. "No, I'm not saying you are. But then you don't need to be. You've got an innate sense of how to put the people you work with at ease. It's actually scary, almost like a sixth sense. Haven't you noticed how everyone loves working with you? Why do you think you always get teamed up with us? Whenever there's a case we ask you to be the primary Detective on it."

Flack blushed at the compliment. He was especially embarrassed considering how much of a jerk he had been lately. It seemed like Stella's train of thought was also running along those lines because she added, "Of course, we're discounting this last week. Everyone can have an off week right?" raising her eyebrows, showing him that he's off the hook now but that she wasn't going to take his irritability any longer. And he knew it wasn't an idle warning; Stella had a temper of her own. Caught in a corner, he counter-attacked.

"Don't you think you're exaggerating? I mean, we can say the same thing about you."

"No you can't. I'm too blunt. I don't patronize, I don't compromise, and I have very little patience when I'm on a case."

"You've always been patient with me," he pointed out, and Stella smiled.

"That just proves my point. You're always so accommodating that I can't help but be like that around you. I imagine that's how you are with everyone."

"Or just maybe I'm always on my best behavior for you. Accommodating isn't exactly the reputation I have at PD, nor is it one that I want," Flack answered, appalled. Stella chuckled. _Men._

"Don't be so offended. All I meant was that you're very easy to work with."

"Again, only with those I like working with," he insisted, almost heatedly. She uncrossed her legs as she leaned in and attempted a deadpan.

"Don't worry it'll be our little secret." His annoyed look broke her façade and she couldn't keep the laughter out of her voice when she added "I don't know why this is bothering you. You don't need a tough-guy reputation with your co-workers. You need one with perps, which everyone knows you've got in spades."

"Anyway." he said pointedly, irritated that he couldn't get his point across. Trying to stem his frustration he went back to the reason he called her. "Mac walked out of court. I wonder how he'll do the day he takes the stand." Stella attention was sucessfully brought to the problem at hand. After all, Mac's career was on the line.

"Yeah. I'm starting to worry about that too."

"You'll talk to him, right?" Flack's obvious worry warmed Stella.

"Definitely. I take it in spite of everything you two are still good?"

"Well, it's only right, don't you think? I mean, the guy did save my life. Not much can ruin a friendship like that."

"Well, as someone who is privileged enough to call you her friend, I must say he is very lucky." For the second time in one conversation, Flack flushed. _Is she trying to set a freaking record?! How many times can I embarrass Flack? _Nonetheless, he was pleased enough with the compliment to forgive her earlier denseness, as well as crack smugly.

"He is isn't he?" Rolling her eyes, she got up to leave. But though she took off quickly to hide her amusement, he had caught a glimpse of her lips curling upwards. Unable to keep his own from doing the same, he followed her out the coffee shop.

**Author's Note:**

I like how this chapter turned out. It was originally very short consisting only of the first Danny/Flack scene. I added all the rest when Mandy 9578 pointed out that we haven't had Stella/Flack interaction in a long time. The whole second part of the chapter was written because of her review. Thank you! I hope everyone enjoyed it! As always, feedback is vital and appreciated.

Specialist.


	20. On Don's Dad

**On Don's Dad**

(Spoilers up to and including, ...Comes Around, season 3, episode 23)

Flack's day started out pretty routine. He woke early, showered, changed, and went to work where he was immediately told to take over another detective's case. Reading the file he was happy so see his favorite CSI listed as the lead. He decided to finish the list of tasks on his end (talking to the victim's roommate and following up on the witnesses listed, etc) before checking in with Stella._ That way I can be free for whatever else she needed done. I guess this could be called "accommodating,"_ he mused in an afterthought.

He headed over to his car, looking forward to seeing her surprised face and wondering if the switch would please her as much as it did him. _She did say that she liked working with me._

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"Stella."

"Hey Don. What are you doing here?"

"Collins went on vacation so you get me instead." _There's that smile._ _Yup, she's happy. _

"No wonder he hasn't answered any of my calls. Burn out?"

"Poor guy hadn't had a day off in a year. By the way, I haven't seen Mac since his prelim hearing. How is he?"

"Elated and hopelessly smug; guess my, I'm sorry, **your **advice, worked."

"Stop acting as if you weren't going to talk to him anyway."

"I was, but your inputhelped me decide how to approach him."

"Glad he came out of it okay; had me worried for a while."

"Yeah."

_It's really great how the smallest things, like working with someone you like, can make your day. _Flack thought contentedly. His phone rang.

"Detective Flack."

"Donald."

_It also sucks how the most insignificant people can ruin it. _

"Yeah," he answered, allowing the irritation to show in his voice. His brother knew how much he hated to be called that.

"Just wondering when was the last time you saw your namesake."

"What's it to you?"

"He's been in your neighborhood."

"What?" Seeing Stella's curious expression, he went out into the busy hall for some 'privacy'.

"Guess what he was doing"

"Shit."

"Shit-faced to be exact."

"He fell off the wagon?" Don asked, glancing around, making sure no one got too close to hear him.

"You'd know that if you'd bother to call once in a blue moon wouldn't you?"

"I really don't want to argue okay, for once stop being a…," Don gritted his teeth against the insult that was fighting to be let loose, "Just give me a straight answer."

"He's probably been visiting all his favorite bars."

"Probably? You mean you're not sure?"

"Well he hasn't been seen in any of our local ones. He's definitely been drinking, though."

"What makes you so positive? And since when?"

"Who knows, but I was over there the other day and caught him trying to sneak back in the house, 'trying' being the key word. You know how he gets…"

"Yeah."

"I can't believe this is news to you. He must have been recognized by someone."

"Do I sound like I knew about this?"

"Wouldn't be the first time you turned your back on a family issue."

_Oh, he did __**not**__ just, that son of a-_ Flack caught himself before he accidentally insulted his own mother as the man on the line continued.

"Maybe we got lucky."

"Maybe. I'll keep a watch out for him."

"Thank you for your consideration," the voice was sarcastic.

Don hung up.

_Leave it to Mr. Perfect to put everything into perspective. _

He went back inside Stella's office, determined to not let the call ruin his good mood.

"So listen, you on a break yet? Wanna grab some lunch?" he offered cheerfully, hardly hoping for a yes. Stella rarely took breaks, even more rarely for food. Most of the time, her lunch consisted of coffee and a home-made salad. He was lucky that day though. She looked at her watch and nodded.

"Yeah, why not," his shock must have been evident because she grinned and continued, "I have some results pending, and don't have any other leads to go on right now."

"Well that explains it."

"Unless of course you have any?" she added quickly, and he was amused by how quickly her mind turned back to work. _Typical_.

"Sorry, I already finished getting statements; nothing."

"Well, then come on. I'll even let you drive," she teased. They were long over that issue. The only reason Stella drove was when she was really into a case and didn't trust anyone to get to the required destination as quickly as her. But Flack had proven his road savvy long ago. It wasn't long before they were seated at her, and what recently became his, favorite diner.

"Okay, I'll take a green salad, and the vegetable soup," she told the waitress.

"Same here," at her raised eyebrow, he confessed, "Too many burgers made me gain a few pounds."

"A few can't hurt. You're so tall, you look almost skinny."

"What?" his eyebrows furrowed.

"It's not just my opinion. Don't you remember how that hostess looked at you?"

"What hostess?"

"Can't remember her name…at the lock and key bar? The one who didn't think we were cops cause she said she was expecting 'big burly men with guns'.

"Yeah, the one who was too busy eyeballing you to see me."

"That's her, but even after she looked at you she didn't look like she thought you fit the description."

"Say what?"

"I'm not saying I agree," Stella said placating, "I just understand why she would think that. You're very tall, and that gives the illusion of, well, slightness."

"Slight…ness," Flack his head moving up and down in timing with his words, incredulity written all over his face.

"You didn't know that?"

"I just thought she didn't notice my size cause she was too busy salivating over you and how many male customers she can get by having you around the club."

"Maybe," accepting the indirect compliment, at the same time realizing that maybe she was being unnecessarily blunt.

"Well this is a first for me," Flack stated, leaning back in his chair, obviously trying to decide if he should be upset by this unexpected portrayal of his physique.

"That's a good thing isn't it? I mean that your suits hide your muscles. It makes it easier to take perps by surprise when they underestimate you doesn't it?" Stella quickly offered, hoping he wasn't hurt by her bluntness.

"Yeah, I guess," he nodded in agreement, "though it kind of defeats the purpose. The reason I started wearing suits in the first place is cause they give the illusion of authority, they make suspects nervous." His off-handed manner put Stella at ease. _I should have known one comment on his build wouldn't affect him. He's pretty thick-skinned and is quite self assured, without being stuck up. He's not like Danny, who acts cocky but in fact need regular boosts to maintain his self-esteem. _  
"Is that why you stopped wearing the leather jacket?"

"You got me."

"Well if it means, anything, I like your suits. You've got a surprisingly good fashion sense. For a cop, I mean."

"Thanks."

Flack knew what she meant. Many of his fellow law-enforcers didn't bother with their appearance much, saying it wasn't worth it to dress up for work when it was inevitable that your clothes would get ruined while chasing down a suspect. Flack didn't believe that excused looking like a slob. Besides, when that did happen, the rage he felt guaranteed that the suspect was going down. Way down.

Flack had tried to forget about his brother's call but sitting now with Stella made him feel as if he was missing or forgetting something relevant. Their food arrived and he took advantage of the ensuing silence they ate in to try and work it out in his brain. _What was it?_ He recalled a vague image of Stella walking him home. They were talking about something that made her face go all sympathetic, and made him suspicious. _What had she been saying?_ Something about him making detective quickly… _Yeah, that's it. How could I have forgotten? I even asked Danny about it!_ He had eventually brushed the thought away. He knew now that he shouldn't have.

"I want to ask you something," he stated, between mouthfuls.

"What?"

"This may have been a while ago, but try to remember."  
"Okay…"

"I think we were walk- never mind. I'll just get to the point."

"Okay," Stella repeated, bemused.

"Have you seen my dad?" _There no need to ask if she knows him. If she had somehow missed seeing the picture hanging on the PD's wall of fame, there was no way she'd miss the resemblance._

"What?" If Stella had been expecting anything, it was definitely not this.

"Donald Flack Sr. Have you seen him recently?" Something flashed in Flack's piercing blue eyes, making her answer him quickly.

"I did see him, a couple of months ago," she admitted, lowering her spoon. Although his tone was conversational, Stella felt very much like a guilty suspect in interrogation.

"Where?"

"There's a bar on the corner of South Street, I don't know its name; sign's pretty old and they never bothered getting a new one."

"I know it," Flack said. _Too well. _

"Well, I go there sometimes, when I'm not in the mood for the usual crowd, you know." He nodded in understanding, being a cop there were days where you want to be alone, but not at home. Sullivan's was always crawling with acquaintances from work. Many cops had other, more obscure, favorite bars as well where there was less of a chance of them being seen by co-workers. "He was there."

"Mind telling me what he was doing?" finishing up his soup.

His choice of words of mortified Stella. _Do I mind telling him? It's his right. I should have told him that day, _she thought miserably.

"When I arrived, nothing, he was just sitting there, drinking."

"And when you left?"

"Well, actually, he got a bit drunk," Flack glanced up from his meal so that she could see his raised eyebrows, "okay, very drunk," she remedied. He nodded and she went on. "He started asking for more beer. It was very late, and there was only one bartender left at the place. He wasn't there, I think he may have gone to the bathroom, so when there was no one to refill his glass he got more…verbose," she said delicately.

"Did he break anything?" Flack asked looking Stella straight in the eyes. He appreciated her desire to be tact, but wanted to get this painful conversation over with as soon as possible. Stella understood but couldn't bring herself to go into the details. _I don't want to hurt him._ But it was important that he not interpret her discretion as malignant. Needlessly exasperating him was not her intention.

"It wasn't a pretty sight," she divulged, hoping it would be enough. Flack sighed, turning away.

"I'll talk to the bartender." _Apparently, it's not._

"It's okay. He said he knew him and to not worry about it."

"I'll have a chat with him anyway."

Flack's plate was already empty and he sat waiting for Stella. She had lost her appetite but forced herself to finish the soup in the stifling silence and when he paid for the meal she didn't protest and followed him silently out the diner.

As he drove her back to the lab, Stella sat realizing what a big mistake she had made. She should have come clean and given him the specifics rather than foolishly try to protect him. _What right do I have to do so anyway? I'm not his mother. _ He would have taken her word for it and let it go. Now, even if she told him everything, it was too late. He wouldn't trust her and would still talk to the bartender. _He is, after all, a detective. He can tell when someone's acting suspicious. I had my chance and I missed it._ The rest of the ride was spent in oppressive silence with Stella feeling more horrible every passing second. Still, when they arrived she felt it was too quickly. She still hadn't figured out a way to fix this.

"Let me know if you need anything from me," he said, referring to her case, waiting for her to get down. He had others he was working on that needed his attention. Stella didn't get down.

_I can't just leave like this without explaining to him. He'll think I was embarrassed to tell him, or even worse, that I'm just being coy and holding out on him._ She cursed her ill-judgment again before she turned to look at him.

"I'm sorry Don."

"What for?" He asked, looking at his watch. Stella ignored the subtle hint and went on.

"I should have told you the night it happened. I didn't because I thought maybe it wasn't something you would want to talk about and since everything ended up okay, maybe you didn't have to know about."

"Don't worry about it," looking straight ahead, "and you're right. It's not something I like to talk about." This time the hint was too loud and clear to disregard.

Stella left.

**Author's Notes:** Sorry about the delay. This chapter was just too hard to write. Writer's block I guess.And I still don't feel like I got it right, but I had to post it before it drove me crazy. It didn't help that my other projects were screaming for attention (the spoiled brats ). In case anyway cares, I totally made up the name South Street. Didn't want to use a real name cause the location doesn't matter.

Specialist.


	21. On Stella's Concern

**On Stella's Concern**

After Flack dropped her off, Stella went back to the lab to see that the test she had stared run still wasn't finished. Instead of looking for something useful to do, she sat letting her thoughts wander to the dark detective.

_Dark is right. Actually, tall and handsome are also accurate, but at the moment 'dark' fits him the most._

And she didn't have only his black hair in mind.

Amidst the banter and occasional flirting, Flack's personality always had an inherent anger and sadness; a melancholy rough edge. It was underlying, it was mysterious; the only hint of its existence was in the zeal with which he did his job.

It was different from Mac's sorrow. Mac's pain and its cause was clear: the devastation of losing a beloved wife. There was nothing subtle or inexplicable about it. Understandably, it lasted a long time. And during that time, his wretchedness permeated so strongly, that even looking at him was a difficult feat because of how obviously broken he was. The experience was distressing for anyone to witness, more so for those who knew and cared about him.

But as the cliché goes, time passes by. Even Mac eventually moved on and found someone else to care about, someone who would attempt to fill the void Claire's death created. And for now he lived happily; or at least as close to happy as was possible for Mac. His closest friend, Stella, could finally breathe easily whenever she saw him. Finally, she didn't have to worry about what to say, how to behave, afraid her tongue would slip and she'd make him feel worse.

She never thought she'd have to face this situation again, and with Flack of all people.

If there was one person who embodied strength, in all its moral, emotional, and physical aspects, it was Don Flack. In that respect, he reminded Stella of herself a bit.

But she recognized now that sadness had always been in Flack. It was in how his whole face lit up when he smiled. Not smirked, but grinned boyishly from ear to ear showing his dimples at their full glory; and how rarely that happened. And it was in how quick he was to frown, his face settling into the lines easily, like they were there long before he ever became a cop.

But the gloom was restrained; it was elusive, disappearing into a joke the moment it starts to surface, making any witnesses think it was just a figment of their imagination, especially since there was no reason for it. But Stella now had proof of its existence. She knew its source.

_Usually, knowing more about your friends brought you closer together; strengthened bonds. But not like this._

She had enough secrets to know how sacred they were to those who kept them. They were closely guarded, they weren't meant to be discovered, and were shared with only the most trusted people. But he hadn't told her of his secret, she had found out, when she had no right to.

Stella sighed, looking at the machine that was taking its time with the task she had set to it. But, she was almost thankful for the time out. Concentrating on her job was going to be very hard today.

Flack was probably feeling frustrated, perhaps even betrayed and the way he spoke to her before she got down was very discomfiting. In his aloofness, he was almost like a different person.

_I really hope this doesn't change things between us._ Then she was hit with a dejected afterthought.

_Hasn't it already?_

**Author's note:** Hi all. I'm sorry for the delay in updates. I've started adding events from season 4to the later chapters so I have to be very careful with the timeline. The story has become much longer than I had anticipated . It doesn't seem like it will finish anytime soon. But maybe that's a good thing. The next chapter is almost done so hopefully, it'll be up soon. It'll be a long one too . As always, I'd love to hear your feedback.


	22. On Steve

**On Steve**

If a coworker or friend saw Don Flack that afternoon, they would have been hard pressed to recognize him. Even though he was wearing his currently favorite suit with the paisley green tie, and looked exactly the same, his demeanor, his stance, his whole aura had changed.

Save for Gavin Moran, no one in the police force knew of this person's existence. Not even Danny.

But Stella would find out. Sooner or later; she'd find out, because she had discovered the button that, when pushed, exposed _him_, the other Don Flack he had been repressing for so long.

Concealing his family's imperfections had not been an easy task; especially with how famous his father was. But Flack had pulled it off, so well that he sometimes forgot they so well even pretend it didn't exist. But now…

He didn't know how to deal with this. It felt like someone had torn his clothes off and thrown him out into the street._ Actually, that wouldn't be as bad, _he thought, speculatively. He worked out regularly, he was pretty confident with his body. But if he happened to be one of those horribly self conscious people, then the comparison would have been close.

_My situation is much worse though. This isn't just my body, it's like my entire being has been bared and put on for display. That's even worse than being physically naked. It's definitely more nerve-racking. _

Sick. He just felt sick, and the nausea became harder to control the further he walked; the closer he got to his target. There it was. The same ancient door, the same rusted handle,

_Here we go; diving headfirst into the swampy, acidic pool of memory lane. Wait, that's supposed to be walking down memory lane, down toxic wasted memory lane. _Flack's hand rested for a bit on the handle. _Shit, I haven't even gone in yet and I've already lost the ability to make sense, even to myself. _He took a deep breath as he tried to gather his thoughts and ward off the splitting migraine he felt coming on, then entered.

At the sound of the door opening, the man standing behind the bar, drying some glasses, looked up. His high cheekbones and very blonde hair gave away his Scandinavian descent; his thick, straight locks were much fairer than Danny's sandy colored hair, and his eyes were a dark grey. Pale eyebrows shot up his high forehead when he saw his patron.

"Donnie. It's been a while," he stated, continuing drying the glass, even though from what Flack could see, there wasn't any moisture left on it.

"Steve."

"Want a pint or two?" The older man regarded the detective closely.

"I'm on the clock."

"Well then what can I do for you?" His tone was carefully casual. It annoyed Flack.

"I'm not likin you very much at the moment Steve." And that single statement destroyed whatever hope the bartender had for civility.

"So what else is new?" he retorted quietly.

"How come you didn't tell me the old man stopped for a visit?" fixing his blue eyes in a hard glare.

"Maybe cause he didn't."

"Don't fuck with me, Steve."

"I'm not. I haven't seen him in ages."

"You're telling me he didn't come here a while ago for a little pick-me-up? I have a witness. You telling me this witness is lying?"

Steve was too surprised to hide the 'aw shit' look on his face. He decided to assuage the situation before it got out of control, which, knowing the detective as well as he did, it already was halfway there.

"Donnie you know I love the guy like a father. I mean, he's the one who got me off the streets."

"Save it for someone who cares asshole."

"I know you're angry but there's no reason to get ugly."

"No reason," Flack's voice rose several octave's, "you serve an alcoholic, a guy you claim you love like a father, you give him beer, and you don't want me to get upset? You didn't even have the decency to tell me!"

"I didn't give him anything, okay. I wasn't even working that night." the man protested.

"Really," Flack demanded, obviously not believing him, "You know you better start making sense or I'm gonna haul your ass into jail."

"For what?!" he demanded angrily, finally starting to lose his temper.

"Well to start out with, for that sign you should have replaced years ago. I'm sure if I look around I can think of something else, better yet, why don't I come back here tonight. You still serve beer to underage kids?"

"I knew you'd come back to bite me in the ass one day. What the hell do you want from me?"

"Stop bullshitting me. I don't care how much the geezer paid you to cover his ass, I'll double it. Is that what you want to hear? You fucking leech." Contempt personified Don, as his language got more colorful by the second. But there was desperateness in his eyes that made Steve's heart go out to him. He got out from behind the counter and motioned to the fuming Don to join him at the booth farthest from the door. He needn't have bothered though. The bar was always empty in the afternoon.

"That was a mistake Don. It was a one time deal. You know that." He said, after they sat down.

"..."

"After all these years, you haven't forgiven me yet." Don looked away.

"Donnie, please. My wife was sick. I was desperate for cash, he offered and I just couldn't refuse at the time. I know it was wrong, but you have to realize the situation I was in."

"You should have come to me. I would've given you the money."

"From where? The change you made mowing lawns on weekends?"

"You're a real asshole, you know that? It's the same story every time."

"And I'll keep telling it till you believe me. I'm not asking you to forgive me, not completely anyway, but at least make a point of trying."

"Why the hell should I when you're doing it all over again? You're a real hypocrite you son of bitch."

"Your mother needs to start washing your mouth with soap again, you know that? I'm old enough to be your uncle. Hell, I was more of brother to you than your own."

"Fuck you, you parasite." The older man sighed. Don was the most polite and respectful person he knew. Except when he was in a temper and his mouth turned into a machine gun of profanity. _At least he's not throwing punches this time, not yet anyway and if I'm going to keep it that way I better not try his patience. _

"Look, I'm not lying. I really wasn't here."

"Who was?"

"It was a new kid I hired."

"Where's he at now?"

"He doesn't work here anymore."

"Know where I can find him?"

"He moved, I think it was to Florida."

"Trust my shitty luck."

"Look why doesn't your girlfriend just tell you what happened."

"What girlfriend?" Flack asked, although he had a pretty good idea whom Steve meant. The man's pale face scrunched in confusion.

"Curly hair, light eyes, legs as long as the Nile. She's a cop too."

"We work together. Why the hell would you assume we were a couple? As a matter of fact, what makes you think you can assume anything about me when I haven't seen you in years? You don't even know me now. "

Steve sat back in the booth and regarded Don intently.

"What the hell are looking at me like that for?" Steve shrugged a 'whatever'.

"Moving on," Flack prompted menacingly.

"Moving on, I need you to calm down and listen to what I have to say, **quietly**. This happened almost a year ago. You can't just barge in here and expect me to start playing like a tape recorder. Especially when I wasn't there in the first place, so don't interrupt and save all your questions till after I'm done." Flack nodded in forced acquiescence.

"I think it was a Saturday, yeah it was. Wife likes me to take her out on Friday, that's why I wasn't there. I came to work and found the place a huge mess. I was about to call Haines, the kid who was working the previous night, when this woman comes in. I recognized her immediately. She was one of my customers. Not a regular, but she's too striking to forget. Not exactly pretty, but…" seeing Flacks impatient glare her, moved on, "anyway, she walked up to me, and hands me some keys. They were mine; I had given them to the kid to lock up..."

Flashback

"I'm sure you're wondering what happened to your place."

"Hell, yeah! How'd you get these? Where's Haines?"

"I'm sorry, but you won't be able to reach your employee. He's in the hospital."

"What!"

"It's nothing serious," she reassured him, "just a concussion. You see, one of your clients got a little carried away yesterday" she gestured at the mess, "this was the result."

"You were here? You saw the punk who did this?" She nodded.

"Can you please come with me to PD? They'll need a description, of him. I'd ask Haines, but since he's in the hospital..."

"That won't be necessary."

"Huh?"

"I know him, you don't need a sketch artist. But I was hoping you'd do me a favor."

"Anything you want lady, as long as you help me catch this guy. Fucking drunks think a high alcohol level excuses trashing my joint. Excuse the language."

"It's okay. Actually, I was hoping you wouldn't press charges."

"Huh?" She sighed and gestured for him if they could sit down to talk.

"Look, I'm a cop, so technically I shouldn't be doing this. I can't stop you from pressing charges. I'll even give you the guy's name, and you can take it to PD later if you want. It's your right. But please hear me out first," waiting for him to sit, while she remained upright.

end flashback

"She then started to tell me how this man had a family, and was a well known figure in society, having served it for so long. That he was old, and wouldn't it be the decent thing to do to preserve the dignity of old men? She begged me to think of my own father, if I was in that position, would I want his problem broadcasted? I told her my old man was in prison for murder and that I didn't give a shit about old men who trashed my bar. I was real pissed too. I thought she was just a dirty cop doing some politician a favor for money."

"Not a lot of those around anymore, Steve," Flack couldn't help saying, knowing how ineffectual the comment was.

"But there are some," the man insisted avidly.

"There are some," Don conceded, gesturing with his hand for Steve to continue.

"Right, like I was saying, I thought she was dirty at first. I told her I was going to file a complaint against her. She didn't take that well, but I couldn't tell if she was more angry or sad. She told me to do whatever I wanted. And that's when I realized how passionate she was about her weak-ass argument; almost like it was the truth. So I asked why she even cared. Told me she knew the guy's son and that he would have a real hard time if anyone caught wind of the incident." He stopped to check for any changes in Don's expression. He didn't flinch, or even blink but remained intensely attentive. "Well, naturally I assumed of course that she was the guy's girlfriend cause no girl would risk doing something like this for just anybody. I mean, I really was going to turn her in."

"No need to convince me, I know you would have."

"I thought she was a bad cop!"

"How about we don't get into your dirty-cop fixation and just go on?" Don snapped, his impatience resurfacing.

_Christ, he's exactly like his father when he glares like that. Those eyes look cold enough to freeze hell. _

"Well now that I was thinking that the matter was obviously personal, I started feeling sorry for her. Cause even though I was listening, nothing she said mattered to me. I decided to not complain about her, but I was still going to press charges against the geezer, just as soon as she gave me a name. Imagine my surprise when the name the popped out was your old man's. Then, she asked me again, to reconsider; even offered to pay for the damages. But I told her I wouldn't hear of it. I explained that I knew him, how he was like family to me and I owed him money anyway so this makes us even. You should have seen how relieved she was," he finished, remembering her "Thank God!" and how she sank with relief into a chair. She had been standing the whole time.

"I admired her effort and asked if she planned on convincing the kid at the hospital to not press charges as well. She smiled and said he promised he wouldn't if she went out on a date with him. She had refused; said she already had a boyfriend, but offered to set him up with another girl. He declined the offer but kept his word I visited him later. Told me it was the least he could do since she took care of his hospital bill. He was staying at one of those fancy private hospitals. Smart girl. He only stayed overnight though. Just to run some tests, make sure everything was okay.

Don sat quietly for a minute, letting his mind digest what he heard before he asked, "That's it?"

"That's it."

"That doesn't explain why you didn't tell me about this before." The bartender sighed. "Look, you're a cop. I know you got a lot on your plate and could do without this headache. And can you really blame me? I mean, I know how much you hate your old man."

"I don't hate him."

"You never talk about him."

"Not cause I hate him."

"She asked me not to tell you."

"She did?"

"Yes."

"A perfect stranger tells you to not tell me about my dad's relapse and you just agree."

"Well, she can be very convincing. Besides, even though she was a stranger to me, it's obvious she wasn't to you. Like I said, I thought she was your girlfriend. Wouldn't it make sense for me to let her handle it?"

"You were just afraid that if I saw you again I'd beat you up like last time."

"That too."

"So like the coward you are, you just conveniently forgot about it."

"Like I said-"

"Do me a favor and just shut up a bit, I don't feel like hearing you repeat your lame-ass excuses." Don leaned back into the booth, contemplative.

"What _did_ happen?"

"Huh?"

"My dad, what did he do?"

"We didn't get into the details. After made sure he was off the hook, she took off pretty quickly. I did get flowers delivered here later that day. Imagine a bouquet in a place like this. I took them home. Lucy loved them."

"How'd he get home?"

"I think she said he got a cab."

Don sat, lost in thought. After a few minutes Steve ventured to make a comment.

"I think he misses it; if it were up to him he never wouldn't have retired. He would have died on the job."

"I know."

"Probably misses you too."

"Misses putting me down you mean."

"Come on Flack."

"I know, I know, it's just how he is right?"

"Right."

"That's what mom always said. I'll never understand how a sweet woman like her ended up with him."

"Hey, love is strange, besides, he might have been different back then."

"I don't think so, but you're right; love is strange."

"How'd you find out about this anyway? I mean no, after all this time? Obviously the girl didn't tell you."

"Dear old bro gave me a call."

"Don't say hi to him for me."

"I won't."

**Author's notes:** Finally got enough guts to put this one up. Had to change the fic's rating because of the language. Also, Steve is an original character. I would love to hear your reactions to this!


	23. On Not Talking About It

On Not Talking About It

**On Not Talking About It**

It was dark by the time Flack had left Steve's place. After getting into his car he started driving around aimlessly for half an hour; just thinking. He had heard Steve's side to the story, and was wondering if that was enough for him. He still felt nauseous, like he always felt whenever he thought of his dad. But, oddly enough, the queasiness was also coupled with restlessness. He didn't want to go home. Despite his lie to Steve that he was on the clock, he actually didn't have to go back to work till next morning.

_I feel like a druggie who needs a fix except I'm not and if I was it might be easier cause at least I'd know what I need and, what the- when did I get here?_

Flack looked at the door in front of him. It was Gavin Moran's house. His thoughts slowed down long enough for him to realize that his body recognized the mood he was in and led him to the only place that, for many years, had been his only haven. He didn't even remember parking the car, let alone getting out of it. _I guess this is it, this is my fix._

He raised his hand and knocked the door. When he vaguely heard a young woman's voice calling out that dinner was ready. Flack quickly looked at his watch, realized this was a bad time and turned to leave, but not soon enough.

"Donnie. What are you doing here?"

"Gavin," Don stopped, not knowing what else to say. But Moran, knew him long enough to not need him to say anything. He recognized the frame of mind his young friend was in almost immediately; he'd known him for so long. And knowing him, he knew that it took Don a while to open up. He needed a distraction first.

"Whatever it is can wait. Come in have dinner with us. We'll eat, then we'll take a walk okay?"

"Thanks," cursing his hoarse voice. _Well, at least I didn't start crying this time. _

For two days, Don and Stella went about their business, as if nothing had happened.

Stella didn't even look at Don funny, which he appreciated it. He suspected it was easier for her to do since he saw a lot less of her now.

Both were careful to not seem that they were avoiding each other, even though they knew that was exactly what they were doing.

How does one avoid someone they work with closely? It was quite simple. Talk about work and nothing but work. It was verbal avoidance; kind of surreal and extremely difficult to pull off.

The reason for it? Also simple. After venting to Gavin, Don decided that he would rather not know the specifics of his dad's night out. He wanted to forget the whole thing. Stella, on the other hand, didn't know what to make of Don's reaction; or lack there of. She frequented Steve's place enough to know that the boy who worked there the night of Don Sr.s rampage had moved. Regardless, Steve knew enough to give Don the gist of what had happened. She wondered if he was angry at her, or if he wanted to know more; or just did not feel like delving any deeper in the matter. So, she kept her mouth shut and gave him space, deciding she'd leave the ball in his court and wait for a sign from him to let her know if he wanted to talk about it.

It never came.

Flack had long ago resigned himself to his father's alcoholism; knowing that there was nothing he could do to make him stop. It was an issue he had tried to forget, but never managed to do so, especially when, like the current situation, something happened which forced him to remember. In truth, Stella was right. It might have been better if he had never found out about his father's latest escapade. Despite that, he had mixed feelings towards the caring Greek and felt conflicted as to how to approach her. He knew it probably took every ounce of her being to remain indifferent, and that she was waiting for him to put her out of her misery. But he did not know what to say. He understood her desire to protect him, yet felt betrayed. He was grateful for her tact, but resented it. He was torn between wanting to thank her, and telling her to mind her fucking business. The feeling of having his privacy invaded prevailed above all else.

_This isn't me. _

Flack knew that his bitter thoughts came from his vindictive alter-ego. He knew, and tried to suppress it. But once the bastard reared his ugly head up, it was hard to bury him again. He was like a monster that had finally been set loose. And it was all Flack could do to not snap at everyone in sight.

Gavin was the only thing that kept Flack on solid ground, and for a while, it was just like the old days when Don would go over whenever he'd had a run in with his dad. Only this time, his run-ins existed only in his mind as he was forced to relive every taunt, every sneer. And the irrational bully in him felt like taking out his anger on Stella, blaming her for his predicament; for knowing, and therefore reminding him. But the kind, understanding man he was reasoned that this had absolutely nothing to do with her.

However, since before his visit to Steve, it had become a constant struggle to hold his darker self at bay, and he couldn't risk lashing out at someone he knew was a great friend, but somehow kept seeing reasons to do so.

He knew he should address the situation between them; let her know everything was okay. But he couldn't trust himself to broach the subject without turning crude.

So he did nothing.

And, taking her cue from him, she did nothing in return.

After a few days, they managed to get some sort of equilibrium and they acted pretty normal, if a lot more professional, and less personal, towards each other.

**Author's Note: **I'm still alive! Hello everyone, I'm really sorry for the delay. I had to see how season 4 of CSI NY ends cause I want to include a bunch of stuff from it into this storyline. Unfortunately, that turned out to be a lot harder than expected, but I'm determined to make it work since I already have most of it written and completed. Meanwhile, I'd like to recommend a story for you guys. If you guys are House M.D fans (as you should be, God that show is AMAZING!) read Silenced, by quack 675. You can find it on this website. To make the search for the story easier, enter "Drama" for genre, "M" for rating and "R. Chase" for Character 1. Be warned that it has very heavy subject matter; hence its M rating so no kids please.


	24. On Snow Day

**On Snow Day**

(spoilers up to and including season 3 finale, Snow Day)

Flack had started the day understandably anxious but simultaneously hyped up about the drug bust. Having to kill a guy put a damper on what would have been a completely festive occasion, but that's just how the job went. All in all, the operation went as well as could be expected, and Don was grateful.

Even more satisfying was the fact that he was finally in the PD's good graces again (save for a few who always had, and always will, hate his guts) and wanted to enjoy it while it lasted. One of the guy's had actually patted him on the shoulder. It had been a real ego booster. The rest of the day should have been spent tying loose ends on the case's paperwork. Later, he planned to visit the injured police officer, then spend the rest of the night celebrating at Sullivan's with the rest of his colleagues for the first time since Truby's arrest.

But Danny's call stopped that.

"Don, yeah it's Messer." He immediately felt apprehensive. People rarely called him by his first name, and Danny was no exception. The few times it happened, there was always something serious going on. Judging by Danny's voice, this definitely qualified. His next statement confirmed Flack's fears.

"We got a problem, man. We got a problem." Flack was already out of his seat, feeling his blood turn cold. The last time he felt so scared was when Mac told him shots were fired at Stella's place. But Danny's tone on the other end of the line had him terrified. The guy's voice was barely steady, and Danny was no coward. Few people could say they knew him as well as Flack who recognized the pain and fear in his best friend's tenor instantly. And he hated it. With lightening speed, he got a team ready and headed out to the warehouse.

He could hardly face Lindsay when she arrived at the scene and gave her a brief explanation of what was going on.

"We just initiated contact, but there's still no word on the condition of the hostages."

"But you spoke to Danny, he's the one that called you," she queried, almost flatly. Don couldn't believe how calm she looked, and couldn't help being short with her when he stated

"He didn't sound good, Linds," offering no reassurances whatsoever, vindictively wanting her to experience at least some of the dread that was swelling up to the point of eruption inside him.

"I thought Mac would be here by now," he stated perplexedly, remembering someone else who supposedly cared about his friend but has yet to demonstrate that in the current situation. Lindsay explained that there was a gas leak at the lab which placated the young detective for now. He had more important things to deal with.

"Nice toy," the man was Irish, obviously; the drugs belonged to the Irish mob. But hearing the accent brought it, and Flack, home.

Talking to Danny's captor, he hardly recognized his own voice; so different was the emitted steady pitch from the frantic mess within.

When he offered himself in exchange for the hostages, he forced his voice to remain indifferent even as he suffered desperateness in a way which wouldn't have been possible if it was just any random hostage in there. Then the terrorist said he would kill the cops, and the panic exploded as all semblance of self-control was lost and he yelled "Wait! Wait! Wait!" eyes glued to the thermal heat monitor, trying to discern what was happening. Seconds later, the sound of gunfire propelled him into action, ordering his men to move.

He had been ready to shoot the masked, armed men, when Adam rushed out explaining that they were cops.

Flack uttered a silent prayer, thanking God for giving the tech he barely knew enough guts to do that. If not for him, Don knew he would have shot them in his hurry to find Danny. When he did, he found that Lindsay had beat him to his injured friend.

"Danny," he called to him, horrified at the mess the guy was in.

"I'm good."

"You don't look good." It was the understatement of the year. He looked like he was hit by a tour bus. "Let's get EMS over here," he had called, loudly.

"I'll take him," Lindsay said, again, so unruffled she was practically obtuse. Like all Danny had was a minor scrape. It pissed Flack off to no end to see her drag the invalid off instead of wait for help to come to him so that he wouldn't have to walk. And almost as if his friend felt his rage, he looked back at him, letting him know that he really was okay. Don wasn't convinced but let them go. And it was just as well because he was soon distracted when he realized all this was just a diversion and, ordering half his team to come along, sped towards the lab.

He was treated to another moment of terror when Hawkes told him that Mac and Stella were inside. Thankfully, most of the fear lifted when he saw Stella emerge from an elevator. When a bomb went off in the building, he didn't need for her to tell him that they had to look for Mac inside. His body was acting on its own.

Later, he would marvel at how he completely forgot the overwhelming dread which came whenever a stray thought made him question the possibility that one day, he might get unlucky enough to be in the vicinity of a potential bomb threat and have to answer a call for back up. It was just one of the things that tended to preoccupy a cop who was previously injured in an explosion.

And when Mac finally appeared, Flack's relief was encompassing: finally, he could stop worrying. He took Mac's gun then observed the joyful scene where Peyton flew into Mac's arms. And he thought fervently that _this _was how a worried girlfriend should look_._ Not like Lindsay who barely looked shocked even though Danny was obviously beaten and in pain. Mac barely had a scratch on him but Peyton was wild with relief. He shoved the angry thoughts aside and contented himself with thinking that Mac finally found some happiness. He discovered just how pleased Mac was when the lab-head gave a carefree grin and responded to Stella's query of where he was going with a simple answer: London.

And they all broke into grins of delighted surprise.

Then Stella asked him about Danny and he watched her smile disappear the instant he told her he was injured. She insisted on going to see him before anything else and left Hawkes to hold the fort, in this case, lab, down. When the doctor protested that he wanted to see Danny and Adam as well, she reasoned that with Mac gone, she was in charge of the lab and if she didn't see them now, she wouldn't be able to later with all the paperwork and bureaucracy that would take up all her time to get the lab back on its feet. Looking around at the mess, they all knew saw how daunting the task was, making them almost wish Mac had delayed his trip. But that was out of the question.

Mac Taylor was not a spontaneous man and they knew that the shock of the event was the only thing that induced him to take the sudden, much-deserved vacation. If he were to delay it, he'd end up changing his mind and not go at all.

In the end, Sheldon agreed to stay behind, along with Don who, touched by her worry and considerateness, offered to hold the brass at bay. He would buy her some time, and promised to not tell them anything, feigning ignorance at Mac's absence. until she got back to explain everything. He watched as she inconspicuously slipped away.

DFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFS

"Oh, Danny." Stella approached Danny and Adam, who were both lying on hospital beds in the same room. Adam's bed was closer, and she saw that he was asleep. Danny explained that the lab tech had drifted off after getting a strong dose of painkillers; his body having reacted strongly to the side effects of sedation and drowsiness.

"He was out like a light in fifteen minutes, and a good thing too. They really did a number on him," Danny explained to her. She held Adam's bandaged hand for a while, remembering that those same hands tested her for HIV. She then approached Danny.

"Looks like they did one on you too. So how come you're still awake. Didn't you get you any pain meds?" She asked, keeping her tears in check. His face was bruised and his hand was in a cast. She was as horrified by his wounds as she was relieved that he was still alive.

"I did, they're just taking longer to kick in." Stella managed to smile at him.

"I'm so glad you're okay," then realized 'okay' wasn't exactly an appropriate word, but not knowing what else to say, she kissed his forehead- the only place that didn't look like it would hurt.

The soft touch drained away all the anxiety from Danny. He couldn't help but wonder why Lindsay couldn't have done the same thing. He had been so happy when he saw her at the warehouse. She led him to the ambulance and rode with him and Adam to the hospital. But the whole time she apologized over the traded shifts. She felt so guilty, and seemed to want him to tell her that it was okay, even though he was the one who made the trade and what happened was in no way her fault.

Ever since she joined their team, Danny had been drawn to Lindsay's cuteness, her playfulness, and the way she could easily put him in his place. But now that they had finally consummated the relationshp, he felt that there was something lacking. He didn't mind risking his life for her, was in fact extremely grateful it had been him, not her that processed the warehouse. But that didn't mean he wanted her feeling guilty over it. It just undermined his being able to stay alive. He would rather she celebrate his survival with some coddling and a little TLC, like Stella was, instead of needing his assurances that he didn't blame her for what happened.

It had been a real eye-opening experience. Danny cared about Lindsay a lot. But it became clear now that they needed to get to know each other a lot more before he could be sure they would work out. He saw, in strong relief, just how weak she really was. _Well, not weak exactly,_ he mused, staring at Stella's eyes,_ but ill-equipped to dealing with tough situations._ He felt that if they would ever have a chance together, she would have to learn to get a tougher skin, or be a bit more in tune to him.

Said Lindsay had gone to get a cup of coffee. When she returned she stood in the doorway of the room looking at the older woman sitting on the chair near her boyfriend's bed. The expression on Danny's face was incomprehensible to her, but she saw something in the way he looked at Stella that made her uncomfortable. Almost feeling like an outsider, she walked in and greeted them. But it wasn't until Stella left- squeezing Danny's uninjured hand and telling him to get well soon- that Lindsay she was able to breathe easy. But that was short lived.

Danny's demeanor towards her had changed. He told her the meds were making him drowsy and he was tired and wanted to sleep. He then suggested that she go back to the lab and help clean up a little. Feeling a bit unsure of herself, she was forced to agree. But she hadn't liked it.

On the way to the lab, she remembered a bit of gossip she heard, but had brushed off as a rumor.

A lab tech had told her she had seen Danny hug and kiss Stella in her office several weeks ago.

**Authors note:** Feedback please! Hopefully, I'm going to be able to post as regularly as I used to now that season 4 is done, but I really need your input on this.


	25. On Lindsay's Doubts

On Lindsay's Doubts

**On Lindsay's Doubts**

(spoilers up to and including season three finale, Snow Day)

Don stood outside Mac's office, which was currently occupied by a frazzled-looking Stella as she searched the desk. It was a far cry from how efficient and calm her conduct was only 10 minutes earlier, when confronted with Gerard after her return from the hospital.

flashback

"I want to know where the hell Taylor is! How he could just disappear at a time like this!"

"Detective Taylor left for a long overdue vacation. In the meantime, I'm in charge."

"You think I'm gonna accept this for an answer?" he sneered, "a bomb exploded in New York's crime lab! Taylor above all people should know the implications of that!"

"We all do," Stella answered evenly, "and any questions you have I can answer, since I helped rig that bomb up to trap one of the perps."

"You-are you serious?" he asked, with barely controlled rage. Stella nodded.

"Are you out of your mind! Do you know the panic you have caused!"

"I know that my team and I have a major crime scene to tackle. And that if you want the lab to start running again, and for all its employees to be able to get back to their jobs as soon as possible, you have to let me do mine. I'll be sure to give you, and Chief Sinclair," she added pointedly, "a complete briefing on the situation after we're done."

"You'll do that. But before anything, have someone send me a copy of Mac's vacation notice. Pronto!"

end flashback

Gazing at Stella now, Flack wondered if that's what she was looking for; Mac's vacation slip. Don was pretty sure the lab's head hadn't had time to fill one out. After all, as far as he knew, the vacation hadn't been pre-planned.

He knocked on the glass door. Stella looked up from where she was rummaging in one of the drawers, and gestured him inside. Don stood silent for a while, not sure of what to say, as Stella continued her search.

"Gerard's not that bad," Flack he finally stated, "he's just covering his ass so that he won't get grilled by Sinclair."

"I can handle Gerard. And Sinclair," Stella answered, not looking up. Flack felt a bit foolish. It had been a while since he'd been alone with Stella. Not since she told him about meeting his dad at Steve's. But at the moment, feeling like he was in a good place, in his life now, he couldn't remember why he had felt like he wanted to hold a grudge. He knew that he had been distant, hadn't had a decent conversation with Stella for several days. He was trying to let her know that he was fine now, that they were okay. _She'd see that if only she'd look up from that desk. I'm trying to be the good guy, here!_

"Aha!" she cried suddenly, interrupting his thoughts. Triumphantly pulling out a paper from the last drawer in the desk, she started writing on it. The young detective moved closer to the desk and saw that it was a leave of absence request form. It had already been signed by Mac, and Stella was filling out the rest of it.

"I thought you didn't know he had a vacation planned," Flack commented, watching her write down the previous day's date in the slot to indicate when the vacation started.

"I didn't. But he and I both have one of these in our desks. Just in case of sudden burn out or an emergency. You didn't really think he'd just take off without filling out the paperwork did you?" She chuckled, "Or at least, without being sure that someone would take care of it for him."

"I guess it hadn't crossed my mind," Flack mused, eyebrows drawn up, impressed with the deal between his two superiors'. "So how come you're writing yesterday's date when he took off today?"

"Because then I can tell the brass that he was supposed to have started his vacation yesterday, but delayed it so he can supervise the collection and storage of the drug evidence."

"Not only acquitting him of taking off without notice, but also putting him in their good graces," he surmised, keeping his tone light. However, Stella though it had a hint of disapproval.

"Flack, you know this won't get him in 'their good graces'. All it'll do is make them yell at him a bit less when he gets back."

"I didn't say anything," he defended. Stella glanced at him. A week ago, she might have said more, but considering that at this point she wasn't sure of where she stood with her young friend, she dropped the subject. Completing the form, she stood up, taking the paper with her.

"Now, all I need to do is drop this at Human Resources. When the employees get back, I'll make sure this is the first request they process. Did you need something?"

"Just wanted to ask how Danny and Adam are doing. I didn't get a chance earlier, what with Gerard blowing a gasket."

"They're both pretty beat up, but they're doing fine, considering. The doctors are keeping them a couple of days for 'observation' but in reality, it's just to make sure Danny has at least one nights' rest. He's already bored and wants to come back to work. They're releasing him tomorrow. Adam might take a bit longer. His nose was broken and might need corrective surgery," she added sadly.

"Ouch. That really sucks."

"Yeah. So see you later," she said, eager to drop the slip off as soon as possible. She had a lot more work to do.

"Wait, I also need to take your statement," Flack stopped her, "on the attempted heist on the drugs in the lab."

"Oh, shit. Can we do it later Flack?"

"Course," he assured her, not failing to notice how easily the curse escaped her lips. _She's a lot more stressed than she's letting on. But then, who wouldn't be. _

"Thanks. I need to organize the taping off of the crime scene and brief the rest of the CSI's. And I don't want anyone other than my team in the building until the drug evidence is processed, _again_, and transferred into our back-up vault. It's not as secure as the one they broke into, but it'll have to do for now. That has to be done ASAP." She didn't need to add that because Danny and Adam were in the hospital, ASAP was not as soon as she would have liked. "At the moment, the whole building is taped off, but in the interest of time I want to start cleaning up the sections of the lab that aren't off limits, but that's only after the drugs are secured, and of course, after we've established which parts of the building aren't vital to the crime scene."

"Well, my team's on stand by. I told them to keep the crowd out and to help out with anything you need. I also called Angell to give us a hand."

"I know. She's already called to let me know she'd arrived. I gave her a list of names of personnel to let inside to start processing."

"That was fast. Let me know when you can give me your statement. I'll call Mac later to get his. Hopefully we can get it done before his flight. When is it by the way?"

"Tomorrow night."

"I'll call him in the morning; see if he can meet me. For now, I'll start with Hawkes."

"You can find him in the basement at the morgue. He's briefing Sid on an impromptu autopsy he did on one of the perps. Oh, and he'll want to know how Danny and Adam are doing, so can you fill him in?" She was already walking away, when Don said "Sure." He didn't' think she heard him though, as preoccupied as she was. Looks like his apology would have to wait until the after the lab was back on its feet. Or it might be better if he just took her out to dinner; it would let her know they were still friends without having to awkwardly open the detested subject again.

The elevator was out of commission because of the drugs that remained inside during the attempted robbery. So Flack had to take the stairs. On his way to the basement, he ran into Lindsay, who was on her way up to the lab.

"Hi," she greeted him.

"Back from the hospital?"

"Yeah, Danny's been sedated."

"Good he needs his rest. If you're looking for Stella, she's at Human Resources. You should probably wait at her office though. She wants to brief you." Flack told her, as he continued going down.

"Hey, Flack," she called him back.

"Yeah?" he answered warily. Besides work, he never had much to say to Lindsay. Danny always told him that she had a lot in common with Flack, and they could be friends, but Don hadn't gotten to know her more to find out if this was true. Although his buddy had invited him to hang out with them a couple of times but Don had declined, thinking that if he had a girlfriend, he'd want to spend as much time with her "alone" as he could. As it was, besides the fact that she was a good CSI and that she was his best friend's crush, Flack didn't really know anything about her. And because they worked together, and because he was Danny's best friend, he hadn't wanted anything to do with their romance. It was a strategy to avoid any awkwardness which would manifest if the relationship didn't last, which, in Danny's case, was a likely possibility. And considering what Flack surmised about Lindsay's personality that day, he now saw that as even more of a probability.

Her indifference to Danny's near death experience hadn't endeared her to Flack.

He tried to be fair. He reminded himself that not all people reacted to fear the same way. But the problem wasn't the nature of her reaction. Her **lack** of reaction, first to the situation, then to Danny's injuries was what boggled Flack's mind. _It didn't look like she even cared about him much. If she was my girlfriend, I'd have serious concerns, and I'm no where near as insecure as Danny can be. _

Looking at the nervous Lindsay, he wondered if she was good for his emotional friend. He always felt that, as sensitive as Danny was, he'd need someone with very sympathetic character to be truly happy in a relationship. _Sympathetic isn't the word I'd use to describe her_, he thought, unable to get her strange demeanor out of his mind. _Danny needs someone very caring, someone who can give him the assurances he needs; someone with a lot of understanding._ A picture of Stella popped into Flack's head. _Someone else. _

Looking at Lindsay's brown eyes, that were at the moment darting nervously, he resolved to keep his thoughts to himself. _It's none of my business anyway. _He always felt very strongly about this. _You do not tell, or even hint, to your friend that you don't like his girlfriend. It's a big no-no. _Don cleared his mind, and saw the still silent Lindsay in front of him. He thought that she might have seen how distracted he was, and that was why she was taking so long to say was on her mind. He hoped he hadn't been glaring at her during his musings. Forcing a smile on his face, he prompted her.

"You needed something?"

"Yeah, I wanted to ask you a question."  
_Must be pretty embarrassing and that's why it's taking her so long to spit it out. _

"Shoot."

"It's about Danny, I mean, you know him better than anyone right? You're best friends."

"Since the day he joined NYPD," _God I hope she's not worried about his family's connections. That would be awkward, trying to convince her he's clean. _

"God, this is hard…umm, what's his relationship with Stella?"

"What?" This was not what Flack had expected.

"Were they ever…you know?" Flack knew exactly what she meant, and he was not amused.

"Dating? What makes you think that?"

"I don't! It's just that, they seem very close. I was just wondering if it's just because they're good friends or if there might have been something more before."

"Lindsay, you've been here long enough to know that this is a tightly knit group. Danny, Stella, and Mac have all been working together for a long time. You can't get these weird thoughts just cause 'they seem very close'," he quoted with his fingers.

"Someone told me they saw Danny kiss Stella in the lab once."

"So what? Stella kisses everybody," ignoring the memory that flashed in his mind.

"**He** kissed **her,**" Lindsay stressed.

"Could just be a rumor," Don lied, wanting to end this horrific conversation.

"I don't think so. When she came to visit him in the hospital, there was a connection between them. There were so intimate, almost like," Lindsay blushed, "like lovers."

Flack felt his temper flare up. _This has gone far enough._

"Look Lindsay, this really has nothing to do with me. If you're so worried why don't you talk to Danny? Ask him?" She crossed her arms, holding them close to her as if she was cold.

"I'm not really good at this kind of thing."

"Well, that's obvious. Then let it go. I don't know what you want from me, but let me tell you this: he's never been in a relationship with her, not that I know of anyway, and like you said, I'd know. They're just very good friends. Another thing; Danny would never cheat on you. He's not that kind of person and if you don't know that yet, then you're the one with a problem."

"I never said I thought he was cheating, I now he's not like that," Lindsay defended, "I just want to know if there was something between them."

"Well, there's not. Besides, what relationships he had in the past shouldn't concern you. He's dating you now. Isn't that what counts?" And with a reproving stare, Flack stalked off. Hearing Lindsay's concerns brought his back to life. _What did she see at the hospital that made her think those two used to be a couple?_ But he didn't have time to ponder that, he had to follow up with Hawkes. _Hopefully, the Doc has aspirin. _

**Authors Notes: (vague season 4 spoilers here so read at your own risk)**

Hi people! Those who have seen season 4 might guess why I wanted to wait till after it season was over to start posting again. Believe it or not, the outline for the whole story has been set since last summer, before I even started posting on this site, but I've been so reluctant to go through with it (especially Lindsay's storyline) because I didn't want it to conflict with the actual show. It's very important for me that the story be as canon as possible; so much that it could be considered part of the series. Ever since the amazing season 3 finale, I thought that the writers were setting something up with regards to the Danny/Lindsay ship. But I wanted to wait and make sure my theory was correct. While we don't know what's going to happen in season 5, I'm not worried, because season 4 works for the storyline I have so far, and I can always incorporate new stuff, like I'm trying to do now for the upcoming chapters and season 4.

This was a very VERY hard chapter to write. Lots of stuff is going on and I tried so hard to keep everyone in character. Some might disagree with 'my' Flack and his thoughts on the situation, but I honestly wrote this based on the so very little hints we've gotten from him during his reaction to Lindsay in season 3 and a few of the later episodes of season 4. I guess it might not be enough to say, in canon, that Flack doesn't like Lindsay, but we haven't had a lot of evidence to support that he likes her either. I don't know if it's the way the actress plays her, but Lindsay always seemed emotionally distant to me and season 4 only reinforced this idea, so I plan on fully exploring this idea. Hopefully, by the time I'm done, I'll have more insight to her character.


	26. On Forgetting to Eat

**On Forgetting to Eat**

(spoilers up to and including season three finale, Snow Day)

Nine o'clock in the evening found Stella in the lab, double checking that all evidence was stored safely before she finally went home. It had been a grueling day; and she had been on her feet for hours; first with processing Flack's drug bust, then the break-in at the lab.

Because all the perps were accounted for, either dead or in custody, there was no need to rush the evidence. But getting the crime scenes processed and ready for clean up was a priority. She shuddered, remembering the look on the clean up crew as she told them to show up for work tomorrow bringing all their supply of bleach. After locking away the drugs, she, Lindsay, Hawkes, Sid and his team of assistant coroners had worked for hours in the room where the pipe bomb had exploded, killing two mobsters. It was important that all body parts were collected that day; before any major decomposition occurs, to avoid having the lab smell like the morgue. She didn't envy Sid having to go through the process of piecing what belonged to whom. Thankfully, one of the perps, the ringleader, had been far enough from the explosion that he didn't loose too much flesh. The man she and Mac had strapped to the chair and the bomb, on the hand…

Stella knew Gerard, and probably the District Attorney as well, would have a field day with this. Hopefully the fact that this same mob was responsible for the death of an FBI agent would help appease them both. Besides, other than getting rid of two criminals, the damage caused by the bomb wasn't as bad as it looked. She and Mac had set it up in a room that was quite far from the main lab. No computers or equipment had been destroyed. All the city would have to pay for were some broken windows and a paint job. But then, that wasn't including the rest of the damage caused by the gunfire.

Locking both hers and Mac's office, Stella made her way downstairs. It had been a harrowing day, work-wise.

On the personal front, a concept had been patiently lingering on her mind waiting to be processed: Flack had come to see her in the office when she was looking for, and filling out Mac's vacation slip. She had been too distracted at the time and too busy later, but now, she realized that he seemed to be trying to talk to her. _I might just be over thinking this._ _I was preoccupied, but it seemed like he was trying to make conversation, just for the sake of hanging out. He only mentioned the stuff he needed from me when I was going to leave. The last few days, he never lingered, or talked about anything but work. _The more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed. After all, he started out reassuring her about Gerard; and Flack had been anything but reassuring for a while now. _Dammit. Flack isn't really big on emotions; he's not as distant as Mac but he's definitely more reserved than Danny. This was probably his way of letting me know he's gotten over my mistake. And I hadn't been paying enough attention to him to realize that._

Stella cursed her bad luck and vowed that the next time she ran into him, she'd make it a point to be extra attentive.

She didn't realize her chance would come that very night. Bidding the extra guards at the lab's entrance good night she walked to the nearest taxi stop. She nearly jumped out of her skin when someone tapped her shoulder.

"Woah, didn't mean to scare you," Don stated, not sounding nearly as apologetic as Stella thought he should. To be fair, she wouldn't have been caught as off-guard if she weren't so tired; she rationalized, calming her racing pulse. Remembering that she was going to be attentive, she forced a smile on her face.

"Hey Flack. Do you need anything?" She asked, biting down the rest of the sentence: _I'm tired and I was on my way home. _But she told herself to suck it up. _What's a few extra minutes chat for the sake of knowing if he's still pissed at me or not? _

"Yeah, I was hoping I can get that statement, now." Stella's face fell, and Flack felt like a complete and total asshole. "I'm really sorry Stella, but Gerard wants it first thing in the morning, and you know detectives are required to give their statements the same day.

"I know," Stella answered, trying to put on a brave front. But in truth, she was exhausted. Her whole body was practically shaking from fatigue, and something else she couldn't quite place. She wanted to go home.

"Stella, are you alright?" _She doesn't look good_, Flack thought.

"Yeah," she answered distractedly, trying to ignore the headache that had plagued her since late that afternoon. She had taken aspirin dutifully every four hours, but she looked at her watch and realized that the last time had been six hours ago. Not that it mattered, since she had probably exceeded the maximum dosage allowed in a day.

"You look pale," Don asked, concerned, putting a hand on her shoulder. That's when sight and feeling came together and he realized that Stella was shaking. Gently, but shaking all the same. And a lightbulb went on in his head. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Lunch," she answered automatically. Then she realized that she hadn't had lunch that day, what with her and Mac being stuck in the lab with the Irish Mafia. Or breakfast either; she hadn't had the chance since she had been called in early to start processing the warehouse.

"Okay, I know for a fact that you didn't have any lunch, and by the looks of it, you hadn't had anything all day. Come on."

Silently, Stella let Flack's lead her into his car. At that point she was too weak to argue or even ask where he was taking her. She trusted him enough to let him make decisions for her. For now at least, since her brain has decided to stop functioning properly. Flack's care moved smoothly through the streets, and it wasn't long before he parked in front of the Plaza, handed his keys to the valet, and walked round to quickly open her door for her, helping her out, and walking her to the hotel's luxe restaurant. In no time at all she found a simmering soup placed in front of hear with a steaming basket of fresh bread.

She ate slowly at first, but gained more momentum as the food entering her stomach made her realize how empty it had been all day. Following the soup, she didn't even know what it was; she was served steak with Bordeaux. The main course was heavenly, and halfway through, Stella paused to catch her breath after her rapid eating spree.

"Think you're up for a few question's now?" Stella looked up at Flack, startled, and he knew she had forgotten he was there. He grinned. Her cheeks, which had regained a bit of their rosy color after she started eating, flushed a lovely shade of red. But she wasn't too embarrassed to tease.

"This meal, this wine, I think I'm up to anything."

Flack became all business, taking out his memo book, listening to her account of the heist, asking a few questions here and there. But Stella knew the drill and told him everything he needed to know with very little prompting.

In the end, the statement didn't take very long at all. Of course, enjoying a delicious meal made the process a lot less painful.

Afterwards, Flack drove her home. The comfort of food and the little wine she had made her very lethargic. Flack noticed, and offered to walk her up to her apartment but she had adamantly refused. After all, even tipsy, she was independent.

He settled for watching until the light in her apartment turned on, and then drove away.

He got home at around 1, a poorer man than he had been earlier that day. He didn't mind, though._ The poor woman had been put through the wringer all day, only to be accosted by me with a demand she give a statement._ Granted, he had been busy too, but at least he never forgot to eat. With Stella, though, it was work first, food later.

_Besides, I got a bottle of Bordeaux_ _out of it_. He thought, placing the bottle in his fridge. Because he was driving, he hadn't drunk any at dinner. Also, technically, taking her statement meant that he was on the clock and couldn't drink. But he made sure to take the rest of the wine home with him. He didn't care how tacky it might have made him look. After all, he paid for it; he shouldn't be criticized for taking what was left of it (in this case, almost a full bottle) home. Taking his clothes off, he wondered if he'd get a chance to enjoy it soon. He only drank wine when he entertained a lady at his place. Any other day, he was fine with beer.

He didn't bother to get into his sleepwear. After brushing his teeth, he threw himself into bed, wearing nothing but his boxers, and fell asleep almost the moment his body hit the mattress.

After all, it had been a grueling day for him too.

**Authors Notes:** Hello everyone. I'm going on vacation for two weeks tomorrow and I thought I'd sqeeze out one last chapter before I go. This chapter is a present to everyone who's been enjoying the story, epecially those kind enough to leave a review (your comments are indispensible). Thank you and enjoy!


	27. On Flack's Predicament

**On Flack's Predicament **

(spoilers up to and including season three finale, Snow Day)

The next morning, Flack stopped by to visit Danny at the hospital after he finished with Gerard. He made it just in time to see Stella get up from the chair near the bed to give Danny a peck on the cheek before leaving.

"Hey, Flack," she greeted him with a smile.

"Stella." He replied.

"Thank you so much for last night, but that place is expensive as hell. I was pretty out of it at the time, but I'll pay my half of the tab now."

"Don't bother, I'll send the bill to the city," he said, offhandedly.

"No you won't. Come on, it's only fair."

Flack felt vaguely insulted by her persistence. She hadn't noticed, but he hadn't ordered anything last night; he had already eaten his dinner. So the bill wasn't nearly as high as she thought it was.

"Stella, no. It was my treat. Now don't you have to be at the lab?"

"Yeah. I was hoping you can drop by later. I wanted to review some reports with you."

"I'll try to. When does your shift end today?"

"As long as it takes to get the lab cleared for Crime Scene Clean Up. Apparently, I was too ambitious when I thought I could have them start today. I had to re-schedule them for tomorrow."

"Will you be done by then?" Danny asked.

"Better be," she said, given them a valiant smile, before taking off. Flack sat on the chair she had vacated, intending to ask Danny when he was going to leave the hospital, but his friend beat him, asking first.

"So, you took Stella out last night?" Danny asked.

"Yeah. Rule number one; a hungry witness is a bad witness. Apparently Ms. Crime-stopper forgot that one."

"So, where'd you take her?"

"No where special."

"Come on Flack, it had to be pretty cushy or she wouldn't have wanted to pay half."

"Stella always pays half."

"You're just embarrassed,"

"Why would I be? I'm not the resident playboy making out with every woman in sight," Flack deflected without missing a beat, and without thinking.

"What?" Danny asked, confused.

Flack hadn't wanted to broach the subject but decided he might as well since it had come up. And now was as good time as any.

"Word has it you and Stella are an item."

"Well, they got it wrong. I'm dating Lindsay."

"Yeah, but no one knows that."

"So they start making up stories about me and Stella? Who would spread a rumor like that? Thank God Lindsay is too smart to fall for it."

"Guess again, she asked me if I thought it was true."

"No way!"

"Yup."

"When?"

"Yesterday. Said she saw you with Stella."

"Doing what exactly?"

"I don't know, but whatever it was you've got her wondering if you two were ever 'lovers'."

"What?!" Danny's face was slack in disbelief.

"She saw something," Flack shrugged. Danny searched his memory, thankful that it wasn't messed up by the meds.

"She kissed me on the forehead, that's all."

"That might explain it. Friend's usually kiss on the cheek, like the one she just gave you."

"Well, mine was all bloody at the time. They hadn't had the time to clean it up cause they were too busy with my arm. Lindsay must be out of her mind," he looked at Flack, expecting to see an expression of indignation mirroring his. All he saw was an observing stare, "What, not you too?"

"Hey it's none of my business. I just thought I should let you know your girlfriend's concerned."

"Flack, there's nothing going on between us. It was just an emotional time. I almost got killed. I'm surprised you didn't kiss me," he cracked.

"Only in your dreams Messer," Flack deadpanned, "And it's not like I agree with Lindsay, but since she brought it up, there is something I've wanted to ask you. The day Dobson died, I saw you two in her office when I went to tell you Mac was suspected of pushing him off the roof. It was late, the lab was conveniently empty," Flack let his voice trail of, waiting for Danny to remember the night in question. It didn't take long before he saw recognition on his friend's face.

"Don…there is nothing going on between me and Stella. We're just friends."

"Friends who were all over each other that night. What would have happened if I hadn't shown up?" Don said lightly. But Danny was suspicious. That comment Don has said so many nights ago never left his mind: _"Pity she seems to be immune to my battle scars."_

"Nothing would have happened. Besides, that was an emotional time, too."

"For Mac maybe. But not for Stella, and definitely not for you."

"How would you know?"

"Cause I know everything about you, you had nothing going on at the time. And Stella would have told me if there was something up with her."

"Stella is very private, She rarely tells anyone anything."

"Except you apparently."

"You could say that."

"Whatever man; I have work to do." Don said, annoyed with the subject. _This isn't getting anywhere._ He got up to leave. "So when are they letting you leave?"

"Hopefully tonight."

"Let me know if you need a ride."

"Yeah. Okay. Thanks."

**Author's Note:** Writing these next few chapters is as impossibly difficult as making a pregnant woman walk a tightrope 100 feet high. And you can tell how late it is by that stupid simile right? Anyway, I'm back and fully determined to end this 'arc' before season 5 starts. I need all the help I can get so thank you so much for your comments. I promise I'll reply to them individually later, I just wanted to post this chapter up first.


	28. On Stella's Big Mistake

**On Stella's Big Mistake**

Flack managed to make it to the lab just before the end of Stella's shift. They went through the reports then left together. Stella was happy for the chance to talk to Don for a bit.

"Thanks again for last night, Don. You were a real lifesaver."

"Don't mention it."

It was then that she noticed that, contrary to what she thought, everything was not okay between her and the young detective. He was acting quite indifferent towards her. His manner was abrupt, his voice terse, and he was more professional than ever; he also didn't smile. _I guess I was being too optimistic, but I can't stand that he won't talk to me about anything that isn't work related. This has to stop._ She decided to catch two birds with one stone; that they had a friend in common who seemed like he was having a bad time coping from his recent trauma. It would give them something to talk about and maybe they could find a way to help him.

"I feel bad for Danny. He can't wait to get back to work and he seems lonely since they moved Adam to a different room. I'm glad he's leaving today, but I'm still worried about him," she commented.

"It's only natural. He's been through a lot. But he'll be fine."  
"Yeah, you probably know that as well as anyone right?" She said, referring to Flack's own brush with death, hoping to open up more venues for discussion.

We're all cops Stel, we've seen victims, even before we became ones," he stated, making his disinterest in prolonging the conversation obvious.

Stella stole a glance at the younger detective, who had taken out his memo book, and was looking through it as he walked. Stella sighed. She decided that she couldn't take the silence and would get on the next empty taxi. They had already passed her usual taxi-stop, if she couldn't find a free cab, she'd have to wait until the next stop, which was at the end of the street. _If he won't talk to me, then why is he walking with me anyway?_

_I guess things are really far from being normal between _us, she thought dolefully. _It was too much to hope for that he would forgive me easily. Not only did I butt into his business, I kept it a secret from him. I wouldn't forgive me._

Don's mind was actually on an altogether different matter. He didn't for one second believe that Stella was having an affair with Danny. He knew her too well to believe it. That wasn't the problem. The problem was that he also knew Danny very well, and could imagine how his emotive friend might harbor feelings for the charming and attractive. He denied a relationship with her, but that didn't mean he wasn't attracted to her. _Heck, you'd have to be blind to not notice her,_ Flack mused.

"So Danny and Lindsay are a going out," he stated, interrupting her thoughts. Stella allowed herself to feel cautiously delighted at what she thought was his second attempt at casual conversation in two days.

"Really? I thought I felt something when I saw her with him at the hospital. It's about time. I'm happy for them."

"You can tell me anything, Stella. You know that right?" Flack stated, remembering something else Danny said that worried him. It was about Stella being a private person. It had stung to think that something big had been going on in her life that she wouldn't share with him. "That's what friends do." _Is there anything going on with you?_" Was what he meant.

Stella, however, took it to mean something completely different.

_Dammit. It took him a while, but it looks like he decided that he really can't forgive me unless I explain myself._ She thought, assuming he was referring to her duplicity regarding his father. She felt very nervous about his reaction, but decided to give him the explanation he deserved without further delay, or the foolish notion that he'd rather forget the whole thing. Taking his arm, she led him to sit down at a bench. Flack looked at her expectantly.

"I shouldn't have done it," she started.

_Is she's admitting she kissed Danny? _Flack thought, shocked.

"But he was in a bad situation. And from what I saw, your relationship with him wasn't exactly perfect."

_Danny and I have had our share of ups-and downs but that's true with all friendships. _Don thought defensively. Wait, she said 'he' was in a bad situation? _**Danny**__ was the one in a jam? That might make sense. He would say it was Stella rather than admit he got himself into something he couldn't tell me about. _

"It was your right to know, I just, I was worried about you. I'll tell you everything now."

_Even if we're best friends I wouldn't go so far as to say it's my __**right**__ to know. If Danny doesn't want to include me in his business, that his prerogative. Wait, she was worried about me? Why? She should be worrying about Lindsay instead of me. Unless she didn't know they're together. But that can't be true. She wasn't surprised at all when I told her about them. And why does she think I'm that emotionally invested in what goes on between her and Danny?_ Flack wondered, without caring to explore how true that thought might be. He instead focused on Stella, who continued.

"I guess I didn't know what to do. I mean, I'm used to being there for Mac, even Danny. But I didn't know how to handle your situation and you were so wonderful to me when I was at the hospital; I wanted to be there for you too but I didn't know how."

Here, she lost Flack. _What is she talking about?_

"It's just that I know so little about your personal life that when I saw your dad it came as a huge shock,"

At the mention of his dad, Don finally realized that they had been talking about two completely different topics

_She thinks I'm still angry about Dad! _Don finally realized halfway through her speech

"And I thought that, because you never told anyone, you must not want people to know so I didn't want you to know that I knew, so that you wouldn't be uncomfortable or…okay, what's with the smile?"

Don couldn't help chuckling at his misunderstanding, but decided to go along with the conversation. After all, the reason she thought he was still mad was because they never discussed the situation. He had just wanted to forget about it, and he had, but obviously she still felt guilty.

"You should be very angry with me," she continued.

"I was, actually, for a while."

"But you're not now?"

"Did you know you're cute when you're flustered?" It tickled Flack to no end to see Stella, strong, assertive, Stella, who can go off at Mac like nobody's business, and face down murderers without flinching, it was endearing to see that same strong woman, let down her guard out of worry, rather than anger or passion. _Okay, enough making light of the situation. This matter needs to be settled. _

Taking one of her hands in both of his to reassure her, he began his long overdue speech. "Look, you were right; I didn't want anyone to know my dad is an alcoholic. It's very embarrassing. Not just for us as his family, but for him as well, to see what he has become," he stated vaguely, not wanting to go into any more detail. "We just want to spare him some of that; 'preserve an old man's dignity'," he quoted her, hoping to lessen the tension.

Stella blushed at his use of her wording, and looked down at her hand in his bigger ones. It finally hit Flack just how concerned she had been about him._ It's no wonder she assumed I was talking about my dad. _Flack felt a surge of affection towards the older woman. Her obvious care and concern made him realize that he could open up to her, and he decided to fully put her feelings of guilt to rest.

"But if there is one person I wouldn't mind knowing, it's you."

She looked up at him with a smile that lit up face up like a Christmas tree and tears of relief misted her eyes as she practically jumped him, giving him a huge hug.

"I was so worried. I was afraid this would change things between us," she confided hiding her face in his shoulder. Feeling ashamed at her words, Don shifted on the bench to find a position more accommodating to her sudden glomp. Had he been less caught up with feeling sorry for himself, he would have eased her conscience much earlier. A thought suddenly struck him.

"That's why you didn't tell me, isn't it? You thought I'd be too embarrassed to stay friends with you?" he asked into her hair.

Stella kept her face hidden, but murmured, "Well, you aren't the most open person when it comes to your family. I finally understood why," she tightened her hold on him. And Flack smiled to himself. There was no way he'd lose her over something like that. But saying it out loud was more sap than he could handle. It didn't help that she was still hugging him, and he wondered.

_Has Stella always been this affectionate?_ He remembered seen her with her arms all over Danny, Mac, and even Sheldon.

_I was right. Stella's touchy with everyone. Lindsay really has nothing to worry about. But I don't ever remember her been so touchy with me before. _

The only time he had any prolonged physical contact with her was after he spent a day with her in the hospital questioning her about Frankie's death. Given the circumstances, that didn't really count. But this…

"I really like you Don. I like spending time with you, your friendship is very important to me. I don't want to lose that." _I don't want to lose you._

Don heard a tiny, barely discernable tremor in her voice, and was moved enough to no longer care how sappy the situation was.

"Hey, right back at you," he expressed in a low voice, "Besides, no one gets rid of me easily. Ask Danny, once you're my friend, you're stuck with me for life," he joked, trying to disguise how effected he was.

"I'll hold you to that," Stella said, smiling happily in his arms. She was positively giddy; intoxicated with happiness and relief

The feeling was contagious. And the embrace changed from a spontaneous hug given out of relief and gratitude, into one stemming out of genuine affection. It made Flack feel good, significant.

_Aww, crap. _It was making him feel mushy. _It is bad enough she went out of her way to cover up for my dad. _Now she was hugging him and he felt like melting. _Don Flack does not melt_.Deciding he had enough, he tried to move, but found that his arms stayed right where they were wrapped around her. _Okay, time out. Gotta break this up now. _Nothing changed. _Sometime today. _Flack still couldn't bring himself to get out. _I'll just wait for her then. _It seemed Stella was in no hurry either; he felt her sigh with happiness against his neck. _This really should stop now. _It was doing funny things to him.

"That tickles," he said, bringing a hand to her hair, smoothing a stray strand out of his eyes. _Now, slowly move away…_

Flack leaped about 5 meters into the air from the bench they were sitting on.

Stella doubled over with laughter while Don, now standing, rubbed his hand over his side where her nimble fingers had stealthily jabbed him. More funny than the violent reaction was his yelp, yes, Flack had yelped, but what brought her so much mirth that tears were spilling from her eyes was the shocked, scandalized, incredulously cross look on his face.

"What the hell was that!?" he yelled, his heart still racing from the sudden body spasm.

"I'm sorry…." she tried to control her laughter but the angrier he got, the funnier he looked, "you just, you said it tickles….and I suddenly wondered if…..if you were…."she broke off in another bout of laughter.

"You wondered if I was ticklish?" he asked, beyond indignation.

"Who would have thought…" If she weren't sitting, she would have fallen from laughing so hard.

"Oh that's just, that was so not right," he accused, shaking his head angrily as Stella tried to get herself together.

"I'm sorry," coughing a bit. "I didn't expect such a huge reaction."

"You do know I'm gonna have to kill you now, don't you?" he demanded.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

"Like hell you won't!"

"I swear," she said earnestly, "have I ever let you down before?"

_That's true. _Flack thought, feeling a bit pacified.

"It'll be my own secret weapon," she continued, ruining his momentary mollification, breaking into giggles all over again.

"Okay, that's it," he said, before sitting back down and attacking her, moving his fingers all over her sides. To his dismay, she had no reaction whatsoever.

"I'm not ticklish," she smirked.

"This is just cruel."

"I know."

"You don't have to be so smug!"

"Sorry," her broad grin indicating she was anything but.

"I really hate you right now," he stated, getting up and walking away.

_Oh my god, was that a pout! _Stella thought. _That was so cute! _She almost made the comment out loud but figured she had injured his pride enough for one day. Instead, she got up from the bench and went after him, taking hold of his arm.

"Oh come on Flack. Don't be mad."

"You could have at least pretended to be ticklish," he sulked.

"Next time, I'll pretend to be ticklish," she promised.

"Too late. Now I'm gonna have to think of a way to get back at you."

"What?" her heart skipped a beat as mischievous blue eyes twinkled at her.

"It'll have to be good," he said, broodingly.

Flack was only bluffing. He knew that if she can keep his father's alcoholism a secret, he can trust her to not tell anyone how embarrassingly ticklish he was. Probably. Her arm through his was reassuring, and as they walked, he didn't miss that his steps felt lighter than they had been all year.

"I'm really sorry Flack," Stella stated, sincerely, worried she might have upset him so soon after just making up with him, _Maybe I went overboard. I'm blaming my European blood for this. Greek and Italian blood do not a reserved person make_, "Don't be mad, okay? Here," she leaned in to give him an apologetic peck on the cheek, Flack turned his head to look at her, and the kiss ended up landing on his lips. It was only a peck, but he recoiled. Stella was embarrassed a bit, but Flack was petrified with shock. Stella immediately realized he thought she **meant** to kiss him on the lips. _I have to clear this up. _

"Well, I was going for your cheek but you ended up getting more. Guess you'll have to forgive me now, right?" Flack shook his head in disbelief, continuing on his way.

"You're really crazy you know that?"

"I'll take that as a yes," she replied, outwardly ignoring his comment, but thinking about it very seriously in private. _What the hell am I doing? "_Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah, later," he replied, happy to see her go. He felt like he was just hit by a tornado, the way his head was spinning so fast.

Both had one thought pounding in their heads.

_Seriously, what the hell was that! _

**Authors notes: **

None…author is hiding in the deepest pit of the earth to avoid the tomatoes.

Red Herring anyone?

Actually, I'm lying. I'm _almost_ proud of this chapter. I've been too busy writing to read fiesta for a long time now, but hopefully my take on the relationship will be different from others. It came out surprisingly warm and fuzzy, since this fic should have been angst, but that's coming up soon enough. As a pivotal point in the story this chapter was painful to write. I've edited it endlessly, desperately trying to keep everyone in character, beating down my inner romantic and throwing her into a locked cage, but she still managed to show through a bit. Please pleaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaassssssssssssssssseeeeeeeeeeee let me know what you think. I've tried so hard to lay a foundation for this plot from chapter one so that the next few chapters don't seem like they've come out of left field, while trying to do so as subtly as possible, so that there will still be an element of surprise when it all comes together in a major culmination (which is still only about 20 chapters away-gulp ). Don't worry though, there are several smaller ones that lead up to it and one of them is only a few chapters away .

This chapter is dedicated to all fiesta fans, especially CsiBelgrade, alegra84, and foxdvd, galasole, CrashandBurn0802whose video's on youtube helped bring about the fiesta-ness of this chapter, and gave me eye candy and brought me pure joy .


	29. On Danny's Frustration

**On Danny's Frustration**

_Earlier, that same evening… _

Lindsay had called Danny that afternoon, offering to drive him home from the hospital. He had declined, saying that he'd take a cab, but the young CSI from Montana had thought her partner had sounded a bit odd on the phone, and came over anyway.

"I told you, I have a cab waiting downstairs," he stated, barely glancing at her when she entered the room.

"I know I just wanted to see you, make sure you're good to go." Danny didn't answer, busily shoving his clothes (which she had picked up for him from his apartment) into a duffel bag. "Is something wrong?"

"You told Flack you thought I'm having an affair Stella." Lindsay's jaw dropped.

"I didn't," she sputtered, "I just asked if there was something going on between you two. I thought since you were friends then he would know."

"Why not just ask me. I would know too, wouldn't I?"

"Would you have told me the truth?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't I? You think I would lie to you?" At Lindsay's silence, Danny lost his temper.

"Nice, real nice, Lindsay. You know what? Call me when you grow up a little. Oh, and by the way, Flack likes Stella so thanks for putting me in a real awkward position with my best friend," he stated, before walking past her out the room.

_Later that night…_

Danny opened the door, thinking his Chinese noodles have finally been delivered. Instead, he saw a nervous Lindsay standing outside his apartment door.

"Hey."

"Hi."

"Can I come in?" He gestured her inside.

"Look, Danny, in my defense, I didn't know Flack liked Stella. I must say, I find it relieving."

"And here I thought you came to say you were sorry," he said, sitting down on his couch.

"I did. I just," _Dammit. I always do this. Everything comes out the wrong way._ "I am sorry Danny. I heard a rumor that you and Stella kissed in her office. I dismissed it immediately but then when she came to visit you at the hospital, there seemed to be a connection between you two…I was jealous," she admitted.

"Lindsay, Stella and me have been working together a long time."

"I know," she replied quietly.

"It's normal for us to be close."

"I know," she said miserably. She looked so forlorn, standing up, still in her coat, her hands twisting together. Danny sighed, raised his glasses higher up on his nose as he thought of how he should handle this situation. He stood up from his couch and grabbed her hand, bringing her to sit down next to him.

"Did you know Stella is an orphan?" he started, knowing full well what the answer would be. Sure enough, Lindsay's big eyes widened in surprise.

"What? How can she be? Everyone knows she's Greek."

"Half Greek, from her mother's side. Bonasera is an Italian name," he reminded her, "and you're right. Everyone knows that she's half-Greek, half-Italian. And that's all anyone, herself included, knows about her family."

"Wow. I had no idea, I never would have guessed."

"Not many know. I don't think she means to keep it a big secret; probably it's just something she doesn't like to talk about, so she'd rather no one know. I only found out by chance. The reason I'm telling you is cause I think it'll make it easier for you to understand, and more importantly, **believe**, what I'm going to tell you now: I love Stella, and she loves me, but like a younger brother, okay? We people at the lab, we're the only family she's got."

Lindsay was feeling pretty ridiculous by now, and more than a little embarrassed as she remembered Stella's expression in the hospital. It **had **been loving, yes, but with Danny's explanation she now identified it as also being completely platonic.

For the second time since the start of their relationship, Lindsay spent the night at Messer's, only this time, in his bed, not on the pool table. And because of his injuries, they just enjoyed each others presence. A few days ago, they had finally consummated the relationship; after months of dating secretly. But, oddly enough, Lindsay felt happier this night, and closer to Danny than after their first romp of bliss. _I guess this is what it feels like when it's right,_ she thought contentedly, running her hand through Danny's hair as he slept.


	30. On the Crossed Line

**On the Crossed Line**

Unlike Danny and Lindsay, Stella and Flack's night was far from peaceful.

After a quick salad, Stella planned on turning in early to make up for her previous lack of sleep that week, but self-doubt kept her sat up for hours. It was an uncomfortable, persistent feeling that told her that she had done something very, very wrong. And she knew exactly why she felt that way. Flack's shocked, almost horrified look after their "kiss" wouldn't leave her mind. His words "You're really crazy" didn't help with the insomnia either. At first, Stella was just worried that he might have felt a bit awkward, but as she replayed the events that had led up to the kiss, analyzing them as she went along, she came to a horrifying conclusion. His reaction was not only normal, but completely justifiable.

First there was the hug. _No matter how good it felt, there was no need to hug him that long._ Then there was the tickle. _Okay, even though we're friends, we're still co-workers, that was completely inappropriate. If it was Danny, or even Hawkes, it might have been ok. They would have appreciated the playfulness. But to someone like Flack, who's only equal for seriousness is Mac…oh my God! He must have felt it was a complete violation of personal space. Which sounds ridiculous because we were hugging before but, why am I explaining myself to myself! I know what I mean! _Forcing herself not to dwell on that embarrassing point, she continued scanning the events. She had grabbed him and practically forced him to walk arm in arm with her when she knew he was upset with her. _Okay, that was too much like an overbearing girlfriend, _finally, kissing him to make him forgive her.

_What the hell was I thinking? That's what girlfriends do to appease pissed off boyfriends. I'm not his girlfriend! I'm his superior!_

Although she was alone, Stella felt hiding under the covers of her bed with mortification. Her cheeks burning, she came to a realization:

For some reason, Don Flack brought out a highly impetuous (_girly_!) impulsive side to her. One she always knew had existed, but had clearly underestimated.

_But, this is a good thing, _she thought, trying to find a silver lining. _Now that I know about it, I can stop it from ever taking control again. I have to really watch myself. _

_First, stop acting like a school girl with a crush, or I might end up giving him the wrong idea. Even friendship has limits. Now, should I talk to him about what happened? Apologize?_

Then she remembered, with more than what was a modest degree of self-admiration (especially considering the circumstances), the calm way she had acted after the fact. After all, she hadn't meant to kiss him on the lips. _I should just leave it at that. It was the truth, and he'll take it for what it was, and hopefully, forget it ever happened. _

_That, and the fact that talking to him about it will be counter-productive because if I can't imagine anything I can say that will justify my behavior to myself, how can I expect to be able to justify it to him?_

DFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFS

In his own apartment, Flack was also desperately trying to think of anything to explain Stella's manner. _Maybe being part Italian, part Greek has something to do with it. After all, European's are very handsy and kissing is like breathing to them. _

_Right? _He tried rationalizing. It didn't work.

_Hell no! That was just too much! Do I look like the kind of guy you can just tickle out of the blue! _It had been a huge blow to his ego, but Flack knew the tickle was not at the top of the list of the weird things that Stella bothered him with that day. _That kiss…_He thought he had handled the situation very well (i.e. had not panicked completely.) but it was still unacceptable. _I'm just a normal, hot-blooded man and all that attention could get to a guy's head. _It was bad enough he had been feeling weird around her lately, without having to odd her strange behavior that night. Already he was thinking of scenarios where he would ask her out, and she'd skip the date, come over to his apartment and…

_No. I can't read too much into this. This is just Stella, this is how she is with everybody. I should be grateful she thinks I'm close enough to her that she can be as unguarded with me as she is with Mac. Or Danny. _

But the truth was… Don was not happy. In fact, he felt wretched. For one simple fact: Don was not used to physically expressing himself. Not to women who weren't his girlfriends, anyway. _Okay, I'm the one who initiated physical contact in the friendship when I hugged and kissed her after the Frankie fiasco, but that had been a one time deal._ There were lines, boundaries that he did not cross. He does not kiss women who are not his girlfriends, no matter how close he is with them. Only special circumstances warranted these acts. _Like leaving the hospital after nearly getting killed_. That was a perfectly reasonable occasion for kissing someone.

But she had kissed him because she thought he was mad at her for the tickle. The irony was, although he was greatly irked at first, the rest of the time he had mostly been faking being upset.

_So does that mean I deserve this confusion? _

As he grilled himself a steak, Flack found himself moping for the first time since he was a child. He knew many guys had no problem with having girl friends; as in friends who happened to be girls, and were as touchy feely with them as Stella had been with Flack that day. But his current situation was exactly why he didn't believe in the concept. He didn't care if that made him old fashioned, but it was just too troublesome. Eventually, one of the 'friends' ended up falling for the other, confessed and then got turned down; friendship over. It happened a couple of times with him too; and he had inadvertently hurt many girls before he realized that he just couldn't seem to remain friends with any girls without them wanting more. Not while he was single and available anyway. But this was the first time he was on the other side of the scenario. Now, he was the one in danger of falling for the girl.

_Now what? How am I supposed to act around Stella now?_ Obviously, she didn't think the kiss meant anything, and neither did he. But it made him decidedly uncomfortable. Flack didn't like feeling uncomfortable. Especially with his friends; that just made him miserable.

_Obviously I can't forget this ever happened. I won't say anything to her, but I'll keep my guard up, make sure it doesn't happen again. _Previous disasters made him fully aware that there was always a line that shouldn't be crossed between friends of the opposite sex.

And he knew that he and Stella were getting dangerously close to it.

The best thing to do now was to run for dear sanity in the opposite direction.


	31. On How Everybody Loves Stella

**On How Everybody Loves Stella**

_(Spoilers up to and including, Season 3 finale, with references to the pilot.)_

"What did beer ever do to you?" Flack startled from his hunched position at the bar and saw Danny, who continued, "What's up? You're glaring at that glass like you're a second away from smashing it in somebody's face."

"I was waiting for you to show up." Don answered, humorlessly. He was still feeling a little rattled 'out of sorts' from his last conversation with Danny at the hospital a few of days ago. Of course that encounter had been almost completely overshadowed by his last meeting with Stella and their 'kiss'. But even though he was certain there was nothing between her and Danny, he still felt like his best friend was the last person he wanted to see right now. So he resumed his glare in silence.

Danny eyed the drink in Flack's hand, and the empty beer bottle on the counter. He could tell instinctively it wasn't the first. _It's been a long time since he's allowed himself to drink more than one. _Wordlessly, he gestured to Frankie, pointing at Flack from behind his back where he couldn't see him. Using body language, he asked how many drinks Flack had. The bartender shrugged, mouthing 'too many'. And in that moment Danny made a decision: his friendship with Flack was more important than any previous feelings he had for Stella. Besides, he knew the battle was lost before it began. It was time to give in gracefully.

Or at least pretend to.

Ordering a beer, he slid onto the stool next to his friend.

"I thought you were supposed to be resting at home," Flack said, hoping Danny would get the hint and leave.

"Two days at the hospital and one at home is enough. Besides, with Mac on vacation who's gonna have Stella's back now that you've bailed on her."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"What the hell is going on between you two? Why're you having Angell follow up on the lab's case when you were the lead on it?"

"There is no case, Danny. Mac blew two of the perps up in that little bomb of his, and the others are all in custody. Other than the bureaucratic paperwork shit, there's not much else for me, or any other detective, to do. The only reason I asked Angell to take over is in case something comes up. I was doing you guys a favor."

"Stella didn't seem to take it that way. And with all that she's got on her plate, I would've have thought you'd wanna be more helpful."

"Asshole," Don muttered, starting to get up, but Danny put a hand on his shoulder.

"Okay, that wasn't fair," he admitted hurriedly. Pacified, Don sat back down. Sighing with relief and apprehension, Danny decided to say what he had come to say.

"You were right," looking away, trying to keep his voice even.

"I'm right all the time, You're going to have to be more specific," Don replied, taking a swig.

"The other day, when you asked me about Stella? There was something, but it was one sided. My side. And that was it." Don set his drink down, and searched his friend's face for any sign that he was joking, or even lying. But Danny's face was serious, his tone quiet and strangely regretful.

"Hey, I'm not the only one" he continued defensively, "Hawkes, even Sid admitted to having, how'd he put it… 'tender admiration for her'. Flack smiled incredulously, and shook his head, wondering if he was really hearing this or if he had just had one drink too many.

"You gotta be kidding me," he muttered.

"I'm not."

"What, you guys have been going to group therapy or something?" He made the glib remark as he inwardly attempted to settle the tension which invaded his whole body at the thought that his best friend as well as others had feelings for the same woman that slowly, but surely, was managing to drive him up the wall. Instead of answering him, Danny continued.

"Remember the night we celebrated Sheldon's passing his CSI exam? At Sullivan's?

"How can I forget? It was **only** six months after he became one. Kept rescheduling cause everyone wanted to be there. Then the day we had it Stella and I got called out during dinner."

"Yeah well, almost everyone left early anyway. It was just me, Sid, Sheldon, and Michael; one of Hawkes's ME friends. We hung out for a while longer and this guy starts fishing around, asking if Stella was seeing anyone. Said he thought she was hot. So we were all like, ya think? But Sheldon told him that she already had a boyfriend. And the guy immediately assumes we were talking about Mac." Don snorted and Danny continued. "Anyway, we set him straight and he and Sid left together. Then Sheldon and I started talking about how great Stella was. I told him how she had gave me advice on Louie, convinced me to have a beer with him. That was the last time I saw him before he got beat up."

Don watched as Danny gave himself a few seconds to brood over his brother before getting back on the subject.

"So I told Sheldon that if he ever needed anything I couldn't help him with, Stella was the person to go to."

"Well, that's definitely true." Flack affirmed, remembering how she was the first person to come to mind when he suspected Gavin.

"Yeah. Just look at how she's always been there for Mac. He's lucky he to have someone like her love him unconditionally." Don took a huge gulp and Danny did the same, realizing he made a mistake in using the 'L' word. "Anyway, I then admitted to Hawkes that I used to have a thing for her. Told him how I flirted with her. Calling her dear, poking fun at how she had no one to go home to. Pretty juvenile stuff."

"Well 'juvenile' sums you up pretty good," Don cracked, really wishing he wasn't hearing this. It was like his worst nightmare was coming true. _That party was almost two years ago, even before Aiden got fired. I can't believe he felt that way and never said anything before._

"Well, you're my friend so what's that say about you," the blonde shot back, then continued his story. "I eventually stopped though. Then Hawkes told me he liked her a lot too, and that since becoming a CSI he had been seriously considering asking her out. Then he found out she had a boyfriend and gave up."

"She was with Mala at the time?"

"Yeah."

"But you both supposedly liked her?"

"What's not to like? Those eyes, that hair, the legs, God the legs! She's smart, got a wicked sense of humor; minus the bad puns that is. Plus she's so touchy feely. She treats everyone like she's known them forever- pretty hard to not fall for someone like that. But the most irresistible thing about her was she was out of reach, ya know? She's too good for the average Joe. Even Mac, in our eyes, wasn't good enough. Also, the age factor was a bit discouraging-"

"Screw the age factor. Who gives a crap?" Flack interrupted heatedly. Danny knew he hit a nerve.

"Well, I didn't. And Hawkes is older so it's a non issue for him. But I thought she might. Besides, she chooses her men, not the other way around. And we thought she'd eventually choose Mac."

"Ain't that the truth," Don muttered, gesturing to the bartender for another drink.

"Actually, it's not." Danny said gravely and looked pointedly at Flack.

"What?"

"She's been acting weird lately; she won't spend time with us after work. It's obvious she's not sleeping well either. She in looking exhausted each morning."

"So what's all that gotta do with me? We've all been off since the drug bust. She's also single handedly running the lab. It's only natural that she's too busy to hang out." Danny gave him a knowing look.

"Don't try to tell me you've suddenly been bitten by the overtime bug. I know you think it's not worth it and you're always bone tired after normal hours; I know how they run you into the ground at the PD. It's even worse than being in the lab. Like Mac says, everything's connected. It's as if you're both afraid to run into each other." Don silently sipped from his refilled glass.

He couldn't refute Danny's point. Even before the kiss, he and Stella had been avoiding each other since the day he found out about his dad. The bitch of it is the same day they finally cleared that up, an even bigger reason to avoid her surfaced.

"You guys had a fight then broke up?"

"You've lost it, you know that? We've never even been on a date."

"But you've hung out together."

"Yeah, well, I hang out with you, does that mean I want to date you?" Upon seeing Danny's trademark wise guy grin Don gestured menacingly with his glass. "Don't get cute Messer, I'm not in the mood."

"So what happened?" Danny prodded.

"What with the freakin third degree!"

"Don, It's been a long time since I seen you drink this much. I know that you try to stick to a couple of beers, tops; and we both know why; the fact that you've had them and have started on-what is this stuff anyway?"

"Vodka."

"Vodka." _Shit_. Danny thought.

"Keep your glasses on Messer it's just my second. And my last," he reassured his worried friend. Danny knew that while his friend was slightly drunk, he would never really exceed his limit. Not with what he had been through with his father. On the other hand, he'd never come this close to doing so either._ He needs to talk, get everything off his chest._

"Okay, back to Stella. C'mon, I can see you're into her. At least physically?" He added, knowing that any guy who refused to admit that Stella was hot had to be gay, and Don obviously wasn't

"Fuck, Danno," his voice became low, and then suddenly got heated in his earnestness. "Look, I'm not 'into' Stella. It's more than that. I..." Don froze, realizing that he almost told Danny what how he felt completely consumed by his feelings for her. Something it pained him to admit even to himself simply because there was nothing he could do about it. He suddenly realized how drunk he was and contemplated leaving right then and there before his mouth went off and betrayed him. But he realized he shouldn't no matter how much he wanted to. He needed to talk to someone about this and what better time than now when his inhibitions were lowered. _I can always plead diminished capacity later_. Besides, he had no idea how long it could go on like this. For the first time in years, he actually thought of calling in sick because he couldn't pass off a case which teamed him with Stella. But he then got disgusted with himself and didn't go through with it. And when he showed up, she had been as cool as a cucumber, as if nothing had happened. Flack on the other hand hated how uncomfortable he felt. Looking at his friend in contemplation, he thought, _What the hell. If he laughs, I can always punch him in the face. It'll make me feel better and he won't take it personally._ He started again in a defeated voice. "I remember one case, the Amedori case, we didn't agree over whether a kid was the perp. We argued and I left her saying I will go forward to the DA without her- you know me, always ready to make an arrest. But when I cooled down I realized that it would be stupid to rush anything before exploring her theory first. And she was right. When we went to cuff the real guy, I just stood there, watching her take him down. She was amazing. And she never rubbed it in my face either. Just smiled, and said thanks for waiting."

Danny gestured for the bartender to get him another beer. He was glad Flack was opening up to him for a change and wanted him to know that he wasn't going anywhere. Also, as a past Stella 'crusher', he found himself interested in when and how it had started with Don. Danny hadn't recently been involved in many cases which put his two friends together, but when he was, he hadn't noticed anything between them.

"Then there was that case where Moran tampered with evidence. She was so discreet. Even though we argued about the likelihood of his being associated with the gang, she was never condescending about it. And when it turned out that she was right, again, she still didn't throw it in my face. She was real nice."

"Yeah, that's Stella. Hard as a nail, but a softie when it comes to friends," Danny said.

"Speaking of nails, you should have seen her tear into that uptown teenager who dealt heroin. She was so pissed at her, didn't even care that the girls lawyer had filed a complaint against her."

"Yeah, I remember you telling me about that. But this is real old stuff Don," Danny pointed out quietly. Flack was silent for a while, then began again.

"After that bastard Frankie, I don't know I just… she used to visit me a lot at the hospital after the bombing; came whenever she could, even if it was for a few minutes before or after her shift. It meant a lot. So I thought, maybe it was because I stayed with her during the investigation of Frankie's shooting. You had a case at the time so you don't know. Stella was in really bad shape. Couldn't even remember all of it, even then, she tried to keep it together. She was amazing."

"So, you helped her out with the whole Frankie thing, then you get blown up and you think she's returning the favor by visiting you at the hospital."

"Well, that's what I thought and how I expected it to end. And it kinda bummed me out cause I enjoyed the time we spent together. I'm guessing she felt the same way."

"How did you know? That she like hanging out too, I mean, it's not like you're good company." Don frowned but otherwise didn't comment on the crack.

"She even started letting me drive when we were working on a case." Looking at Danny's confused look he explained. "Sometimes we spend longer than planned checking out a lead. When she drives, she never stops for food." Understanding dawned in Danny's eyes and he smiled, letting his friend know that he had run into that problem with Stella before. After all, he was Italian. He loved food almost as much as Flack. "Yeah, well, she started to let me drive so I can stop whenever I'm hungry. We would chat, catching up on my health and her love life, or lack there of, after Frankie. It was nice. It got to the point where our chats wouldn't fit in our lunch break.

"Is that when you started meeting up after work?" Don was about to ask Danny how he knew, when he remembered that he mentioned it to Danny as an explanation of how he found out about Mac and Peyton; he had run into them while having dinner with Stella.

"Yeah. But that only happened a couple of times, and it was never planned. We'd just catch each other on our way out and decide to grab a bite."

"So, what changed?" Flack sighed and Danny worried he would stop now; he was always a more reserved person than Danny.

Flack was instinctively thinking that he should be even more close-mouthed than usual. This concerned Stella, Danny's superior. Hell, she could even be considered Flack's superior. But Danny already suspected something. He had actually thought that they had gone out. If for no other reason, Don had to set the record straight. Besides, there wasn't much Flack could say that would serve more than just giving himself a healthy outlet from the pressure of keeping his feelings to himself. He had been feeling a shift in his relationship with Stella for months now, but everything had gone to hell with that inadvertent kiss. And it was starting to affect his job. He had gotten more complaints than usual from suspects. The captain actually threatened him with suspension if he didn't cool it.

Sensing his hesitation, Danny said, "C'mon Don. I'm not gonna say anything to her or anyone else. Plus, I have a pretty good idea what's going on so just do yourself a favor and let it out."

The afflicted detective finally decided to go with an edited version of the truth.

"It all just stopped. We weren't put together very often, and it was only then that I realized that if we weren't working together, there was no other excuse for us to hang out; and I missed that." It was only a half lie. They _were_ spending less time together, and they had fewer cases in common; Flack did everything he could to make sure of that. Unfortunately, spending less time with her didn't help matters at all. It was worse; it only made his crush more obvious to himself.

"Because you miss her, you decide to avoid her? That makes sense," Danny pointed out sarcastically.

"It does if I'm trying to find out if she misses it as well," Don replied, grabbing the flimsy explanation out of thin air. He had no intention whatsoever about telling Danny about the kiss.

"And? What did you find out."

"She doesn't seem to care."

"You can't know that."

"You never know. It's just the impression I got."

"So what? You're going to avoid her till it goes away?"

"Doesn't seem to be much of a chance of that happening; I think I'm falling for her,"

"Careful. You might break something with that flat-out confession. Do you always have to be such a tight-ass? Even now?" Flack couldn't help but smile at Danny's reply, even if it wasn't meant to be funny.

"Blame my dad. It's what I get for being a cop's son. But you get the picture."

"Are you sure?"

"Trust me, I'd give anything to not be sure. Especially with my odds." Danny refrained from commenting.

"You know, it really is all her fault," Don stated, suddenly annoyed, "She's too damn fun to be around. I mean, we both enjoy making suspects shit their pants, and she's always there to follow my lead, or laugh at my jokes, or smirk at my innuendo's."

"Yeah, but buddy, you know that's the way she is with everybody."

The black haired man shook his head.

"That's the thing. I know I'm probably reading too much into this, but for a while there I haven't been so sure. All that humoring goes to a guy's head, you know? I can handle thinking it's just one-sided. But now I'm wondering if it really is. Or maybe it's from her side, maybe she knows. I can see it in the way she looks at me."

"Why is that a problem? You afraid it freaks her out? I mean, I know you're no Danny Messer but it's not like you're Frankenstein either."

Any other time, Don wouldn't have missed the unusual tone in Danny's voice when he said that last sentence. Any other time, Don would have asked why Danny's sarcasm was directed towards himself rather than to Don, whom he was supposedly making fun of. He would have asked him why he said his own name with such bitterness. But whether it was because Flack was too drunk to notice, or relieved to finally be able to vent a little, he took the comment at face value: a joke. He smirked skeptically to show just how lame he thought it was before replying seriously.

"No, but now its too awkward. Sometimes I kid myself that maybe she feels something too. That she's actually trying to get my attention."

"Kid yourself? C'mon Don, someone either loves you or they don't."

"Well, I'm sure she does, like a friend, I'm just not sure how much…not like how I know she loves Mac."

"Of course she loves Mac. They've been together forever. Everyone knows that." Danny stated carelessly, not knowing how it killed the other to hear it.

"Well, I wish everyone was also sure how she sees me." Flack snapped bitterly.

"Everyone is, except you, you idiot." Danny said, fighting hard to control the bitter jealousy that kept rising in his stomach. He meant the statement to be light, but Don's reaction showed that it didn't come out that way. For a second, a fear overcame him as he thought that maybe Don figured him out.

"Okay Messer, one more time and I'll punch your lights out." And Danny relaxed, deciding that he liked Drunk Don very much. He thought Danny was just insulting him.

"And why are you suddenly changing your tune? You said it yourself, she doesn't even see me as that close of a friend. Remember before? I saw you hugging her and I knew something was up. I just didn't want to believe that she'd confide something to you that she wouldn't to me."

Here, Danny felt a bit guilty for misleading Flack; more so because it had been completely intentional. Trying to repent, he played dumb.

"Why would you think that?" At Flack's pointed stare, Danny scratched the back of his neck.

"Flack, something was up with Stella, and the only reason she discussed it with me was because I accidentally found out and told her."

"What? What did you find out?" Danny sighed, surely there was no harm now, and Flack needed to know this. He was misinterpreting all that had gone on in the past months.

"Remember Emery Gable?"

"The music agent with the mirror- crazy sister?"

"Right. He was HIV positive and Stella cut herself in his crime scene." The Italian saw the effect of his words on Flack

"Shit"

"Yeah. And that day that you saw us, she was telling me that her test results were negative and we were celebrating."

Flack didn't know whether to be happy or sad. The only reason she had been avoiding him was because she thought she had AIDS. But her not telling him about it lessened the relief he would have felt otherwise.

"Why wouldn't she tell me?"

"Probably cause she cared about you too much." Flack scoffed.

"Hey, they were her words," Danny insisted.

"What?"

"Well, she said them in a different context, but it was something about how sometimes when a woman cares a lot about someone, she wants to make sure she can take care of herself," paraphrasing what Stella told him about Lindsay.

"That makes absolutely no sense."

"That's what I thought," Danny admitted, pushing his glasses up higher on his mose.

"So how come you didn't tell me this before?"

"She told me not to tell anyone."

"No I mean how a few days ago when I asked you, you said, she'd tell you something that she wouldn't tell me, when actually, you only found out by accident."

"Oh, that. I just wanted to mess with you."

The alcohol-induced haze lifted long enough for Flack to think matters through. _That's not it._ Y_ou wanted me to think you were closer to her than I am. Were you trying to make me jealous? No, you didn't do it to get me to act on my feelings for her; it was more than that. You're actually jealous of my proximity to her; Why? Are you jealous of our friendship or because…,_ suddenly, all the pieces came together as Flack made a shrewd and shocking discovery. _Danny didn't just have a silly crush on her; he was genuinely attracted to her; maybe even… _

Don didn't finish the thought; Danny was talking.

"Look, I'm telling you, it's obvious that you're important to her too. She's got enough emotions for everyone you know. It's not like they run out, especially in someone like her." Don cleared his mind long enough to answer Danny.

"Yeah, well that's just the problem. Kinda makes it hard to know if I'm just another one of the guys." His friend let out an exasperated sound.

"Just ask her out."

"Like you asked Lindsay?" Danny glared and Flack was chagrined. "Sorry. Low blow".

"That's what I get for trying to do you a favor. You're being a real ass today though, you know? Must be all that beer. At least Linds and I are a real couple now, even if we're keeping a low profile. And it doesn't matter how long it took for that to happen," he added, hurt, but grinned slightly to let Don know he wasn't really angry. "Look man, I gotta go. I have an early shift tomorrow. I'm guessing you don't or you'd be in bed by now."

"Not so fast wise guy." He looked at Flack questioningly, but stayed put.

It seemed to take Flack a while before he could say what he had in mind, which was weird considering how relatively open he was up to this point. _Must be the beer, he's having a hard time stringing a sentence together._ Danny thought.

"Well, what is it?"

Flack swallowed, then posed the question that bothered him.

"Did you really, have a crush on her?" Understanding dawned on Danny and he cursed the fact that Drunk Don didn't mean a stupid Don, or a forgetful one either. Knowing full well that his face would give everything away even if he tried to deny it, he answered simply, and he hoped, casually.

"Yeah."

"You used to flirt with her?"

"Yup." Flack looked at Danny straight in the eye and asked his next question.

"And how did she react?" Danny looked away, cursing the fact that he could never keep his emotions out of his face, and settled for attempting to keep them out of his voice.

"She shot me down," he answered, unaware of his almost wistful tenor.

"She did?" Flack's voice was so low Danny could hardly make out what his reply was. But it seemed that he was surprised. So Danny answered in more detail.

"Every single time," he replied, this time knowing full well that he failed in keeping the regret out of his voice. He then broke the ensuing awkward silence by returning Flack's gaze.

"Everyone loves Stella," he said before getting up and patting Flack roughly on the back. "You okay going home alone?"

"Yeah, my taxi has been waiting for a while."

"Alright. By the way, you make her cry, I'll kill you," he cracked, inwardly, thinking that Mac will probably do it first. But he didn't mention that to Don. He didn't want to add to his friend's insecurities about Stella's affection to him being second to Mac's, even if his boss did have a girlfriend now. In truth though, he had made the statement hoping that the lame joke plus a threat would lighten the melancholy mood that had set. He couldn't stand Flack's grave, almost pitying look. "You know I got science on my side and can cover my tracks," he continued, forcing a smile on his face.

Don recognized the intent and played along to spare his friend's feelings.

"We've never even had a date and already you're acting as if we're getting married."

"Yeah, well, if you play your cards right, it might end up that way."

"Shit, Messer. Trust me, if anyone will end up crying, it'll be me. Now get lost." Flack waved him off.

"I'm gone, I'm gone."

Don remained in the bar a while longer. If possible, he had even more to think about now than before. The possibility of Danny harboring deeper feelings for Stella than he let on had been on Flack's mind for a while now, but the blonde's confession had still astounded him; leaving him more confused than ever.

Flack knew that Danny went after Lindsay for a long time before succeeding in getting her to go out with him. _That has to mean that Messer cares about Lindsay a lot_. But from what Flack just witnessed, his friend's initial feelings for Stella were also far from over even though it seemed that he had resigned himself to just being her friend.

A lot had been said that night and Flack wasn't sure if he felt comfortable going after Stella, knowing that Danny had tried, and failed before. The knowledge didn't bode well for the tall detective. Danny was his friend, and he knew just about everything about him. Most of all, he knew that, aside of his impulsiveness and ability to get himself into trouble, Danny was a great guy. So why would Stella not want to try things out with him? If it was really the age factor then he was screwed; he and Danny were practically the same age. Regardless of the reason, Flack was enough of a friend to think twice before going after his buddy's previous lost cause.

"Reasons to not to say anything to her just keep mounting up," he muttered to himself. His mind was now in a fog so thick, he knew unconsciousness was near. He had to get himself home as soon as possible so he can pass out in the privacy of his bedroom. But before that, he got an old receipt out of his pocket and wrote a quick note on it, knowing that it had been so long since he got drunk and that not remembering what happened was a strong possibility: Shoving the note into his pocket, he threw some bills on the table and stumbled outside to his taxi.

DFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFS

On the way home Danny thought about what he left out of his conversation with Flack.

He not only flirted with Stella, but had even ventured to ask her out once. He had come up with what he thought was an ingenious way to let her know his feelings without causing any long term embarrassment if she didn't reciprocate them. Of course, it could also be argued that it was actually a coward's way out…

He had gotten the idea from Flack, who didn't get drunk very often, but when he did, sometimes forgot everything that happened during the alcoholic stupor. So Danny had pretended he was drunk after they had hung out at Sullivan's and had she shared a cab with him. Before he got out, he latched on to her and gave her a kiss. It had been the best moment in his adult life; long enough for him to find out that she tasted just as good as he imagined. After it ended, he told her:

"I'm too drunk to remember this tomorrow. But I think you're amazing. If you ever wanna go out, remind me of tonight and tell me that goodnight kisses come after dinner, then take your pick of any restaurant."

The next day, he came to work early, actually arrived before she did for once, hoping to gauge her reaction. She walked in, and he caught up with her, saying the first thing that came to his mouth.

"Good morning, dear."

"Do I have a tail back there?" She asked.

"Sorry, good morning Stella."

"Better," she replied smiling.

Feeling more than a bit deflated, he switched gears.

"Did you hear about our new case?"

"Yeah I heard it on the police radio when I was in the shower."

"Now why doesn't that surprise me," he said ironically, trying not to imagine her taking that shower.

"Job never stops Danny," she stated, which quickly brought his mind out of the gutter. After all there was nothing sexy about her being a workaholic.

Needless to say, she never brought up his offer for a date.

On the nights he didn't feel like crying himself to sleep, Danny comforted himself with the fact that the plan had worked perfectly and that neither of them acted any differently towards each other. It took a while, but he had reconciled himself to the knowledge that she wasn't interested. He was suppossed to have gotten over her.

So why did he know feel as if he were bleeding from the inside? Why did it hurt so much to tell Flack that Stella liked him?

Danny thought of Lindsay's big eyes and sweet smile. _My beautiful Montana._ And suddenly, he felt a desperate need to see her.

**Author's Note**: The chapter that started it all, and the longest so far. It was first written August, 2007 and was supposed to be a stand alone one-shot with this chapter's title as the original title. But a monster was born and I had to expand the idea into multiple chapters. I never thought it would be this long though, and I'm so happy that I finally reached this stage in the story; I've been waiting for a year to share it with you. I'd like to thank everyone who's kept up with the story until now, you've all been very patient. The cat is finally out of the bag, and I just hope no one is disappointed. You can blame Melina Kanakaredes for her chemistry with just about everyone on the show including Carmine Giovinazzo, (especially in season one), and Eddie Cahill (too often to count). From now on, the story takes an entirely new direction; events from season 4 will be included. All bets are off, and I need whatever feedback you may have so, give me the reviews; gimme, gimme, gimme! Please?


	32. On Reaching a Consensus

**On Reaching a Consensus**

_(Spoilers up to and including, Season 3 finale, with references to the pilot.)_

Flack woke up the next morning, around six, with the hangover from hell. He took an aspirin and went back to sleep until 8:30 when most of the nausea and dizziness had abated, before taking a shower, brushing his teeth at the same time. Finished, he wrapped a towel around his waist and he went to his room to change. That's when he saw his suit from the night before reeking on the floor. He found an empty bag to put it in, intending to take it to the dry cleaners on the way to work. As always he inspected the pockets first, and found a wadded up paper. It was an old receipt, with a note written on the back:

**_D liked S, she put him down. Where does that leave me?_**

The summary seemed inappropriately simple for all that he had learned yesterday. _Guess that's the best I could come up with, drunk as I was_, he reasoned, wryly.

Ironically, for once, he didn't need to be reminded of what had happened on a night he had been drinking heavily.

The rest of the day was mercifully uneventful; he spent the whole time at his desk, finishing paperwork. But he was still grateful to go home, get into sweats, and vegetate on the couch, allowing his mind to wander freely while he waited for his Chinese to be delivered.

Moments he had with Stella ran through his mind like a film. He tried to remember when he first started having deeper feelings for her. He wasn't exactly sure, but one thing was certain. Her ordeal with Frankie had changed everything. Sitting outside, waiting for the forensic nurse to collect evidence, including a rape kit, had really shook him. He decided to be professional about it, but couldn't remember the last time he was so gentle with a victim. He was much better at busting suspects' chops. Sometimes, Flack had his partner (usually Danny or Stella) handle the victims. It was harder to convince Stella though. She insisted that just because she was a woman didn't mean that she knew how to break bad news gently.

But a while ago she actually volunteered a couple of times, saying that she had to get better at it. _It might be because she experienced what it feels like to be a victim. God knows I've become mellower since being blown up. With the vic's at least. On the other hand, it could be cause of her HIV scare._ Every time he thought about it, it hurt him more. _Why the hell didn't she tell me?_

Don didn't buy Danny's flimsy explanation. He knew that this single point was key to helping him decide whether he had any chance at a relationship with her.

He heard a knock on the door. Paying the delivery boy, he turned on the T.V to watch ESPN while eating dinner. But the question plagued his mind until, and was waiting for him when he woke up the next morning.

Not matter how he looked at it, he always arrived to the same conclusion: Her not confiding in him, at the very least showed a definite lack of either trust, or intimacy, or both.

_So now what? _

Flack thought about it while he dressed, he thought about it while driving, and by the time he reached the precinct he had reached a consensus of sorts.

Being the detective who works the most with Mac's team, he had no right to back out now just because he developed feelings Stella. _After all, it wasn't her fault. Not really, anyway. She was just being herself. _He was now pretty certain that all she felt towards him was friendship. He, on the other hand, was no closer to defining his own emotions. Definitely not to the point to decide on whether he would pursue a relationship with Stella.

_Beside's even if I wanted to, now is not a good time. _

Not with knowing what he did about Danny. He couldn't risk hurting his unstable best friend, especially now, after his recent hostage situation. And definitely not with Mac gone, and Stella was the acting head of the lab. Professionally, it would cause a lot of problems.

_I'll wait till Mac comes back, and Messer and Monroe have been together for a while; give Danny a chance to settle down. It'll also give me time to sort things out. Play the field for a while. Once I'm sure Danny's okay, and if I still feel the same way for Stella, then I'll make a move and try my luck. _


	33. On Being Heard

**On Being Heard **

(General spoilers up to and including, Season 4, episode 1 Can You Hear Me Now?)

_Stella: "Mac, what are you still doing here?"_

_Mac: "I'm still on London time, its breakfast. You just finished with Morton Bright?" _

"_He's at Central Booking. The statue of liberty was a way to get our attentions. The strangest thing, even after he knew who killed Marie, it never crossed his mind go after Anthony Colton."_

"_For some the greatest sin is to turn away and do nothing. Go home." _

"_Yeah." _

Go home. Just like that. I missed him, wanted to be with him, maybe catch up a little, and he sends me home. Like a boss dismissing his lackey. And I'm wondering why I'm surprised when I shouldn't be.

Mac had come back and something was different. He's been gone for two weeks, and his demeanor was so different than when he left. He had gone looking so happy, so elated. Now he looked as if he left a part of himself back in London. I worried that he and Peyton might have left on bad terms. Then he told me about the phone calls. And it explained things, but not everything.

He had called me Detective when he came on the scene. After being gone for so long, he called me Detective. No Stella, no Stel, just Detective; so formal, so distant. And now he tells me to go home; after we finally solved the case, now that we finally have a chance to hang out. Just like that, he dismissed me.

And being me, I make all sorts of rationalizations: he's tired, he's jet lagged, he doesn't feel like talking, I'm overreacting.

They work. Slowly, I'm able to brush it off. But then, why shouldn't I be able to?

I've only done it a million times before. After all, that's just how he is. And I remind myself that I like how he is.

**Author's note:** I took the liberty of making Mac's stay in London last for two weeks instead of 10 days. There is no way 10 days would be enough for Danny's hand to heal enough that he'd be climbing Lady Liberty. Even if it's only a four day difference, I think it makes it more realistic, and works better for my story.


	34. On Best Friends

**On Best Friends**

(General spoilers up to and including, Season 4, episode 1 Can You Hear Me Now?)

_Goodbye my almost lover,_

_Goodbye my hopeless dream,_

_I'm trying not to think about you _

_Can't you just let me be? _

DFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFS

Nove Kent's song which had been running through Danny's head all day had hit a bit too close to home. _It's really pissing me off. _It didn't help that Stella was standing right next to him when he first heard it. And now it wouldn't leave his mind.

"Where are you off to now?" Flack called out to him, after their shift ended.

"Date with Lindsey. I just wanna run home to grab my Harley first." He was picking Lindsay up from her apartment, and he liked having his own ride for dates.

"Well, skip the subway. I'll drive you."

"What, you don't got anything better to do?"

"Not today. Besides, I wanna pick up some steaks from that butcher round the corner of your street."

"Yeah, no one cuts them like Charley," Danny said, getting into the car.

"You got that right," Flack answered, buckling his seatbelt.

"So how're things going between you two?" Flack asked, after being on the road for a few minutes, "You even make it to third base yet?"

"Man we're way past that."

"Then why not make it official? Why all the secrecy?"

"It's not like we're hiding or anything, we just want to keep it low-key."

"Meaning you're worried Mac'll fire you if he finds out."

"He wouldn't do that, at least at I don't think he would."

"You'd better hope so," Flack said, stopping at a red light. He glanced at Danny, "Is it really worth the risk, though?"

The CSI couldn't keep the smile off his face

"I guess that stupid grin says it all, huh?" But Flack's light comment held deeper meaning, which Danny picked up on immediately: _Are you happy?_ And he answered accordingly.

"It's been better now than it has been for a long time, Don." Deep blue eyes searched clear blue ones. Then Flack nodded, satisfied. In front of him, the light turned green, and he stepped on the gas.

"Good. I'm glad for you."

"What about you? You ever gonna asked Stella out?"

"I decided I don't wanna mess up a good friendship."

"She already has a friend, Don."

"I know she has Mac, but it's not like you can have too many friends."

"I'm her closest friend," Danny stated.

"I though Mac was."

"No she's his best friend."

"Am I missing something here? That's the same."

"No it's not. She's his best friend, but he's not her best friend. It all has to do with who needs who more. Who's mostly on the receiving end," he clarified.

"So you're saying he needs her more than she needs him?" Flack stated, catching on.

"Exactly."

"And she needs you more than you need her?"

"That's right."

"And how'd you figure that?"

"Well, I know what she needs from Mac but isn't getting so I fill in the blanks. On the other hand, I don't need her all that much," Danny explained.

"Oh yeah, and why's that?" Flack challenged, valiantly keeping himself from adding that Danny was the neediest person he knew.

"Cause I got you."

Flack didn't expect that answer.

"So you're saying you're my bestest best friend friend. Pretty sure of yourself aren't you?" he cracked, swerving to avoid a pizza delivery guy on a motorcycle.

"That's not what I meant. You are my closest friend, cause I'm the one whose on the receiving end," Danny answered seriously, fiddling with his cell phone.

Flack was humbled by this sudden honesty, but mostly he felt a bit embarrassed.

"Danny."

"What?"

"Have you been drinking?" Flack asked, taking his eyes off the road for a second to see Danny scratch his neck, looking determinedly out the window.

Flack realized that he was hurt. Danny was very inhibited when it came to talking emotions. For whatever reason, he had opened up to Flack who, in his surprise, hadn't given him the response he needed.

"This is the weirdest conversation I've ever had," he explained, quietly.

Danny remained silent. Flack knew he was still upset.

"So, I'm you're best friend, but you're not mine. Does that mean I need to put in an ad in the personals? All this time I thought I already had one," he stated, keeping his tone light, but his tone was serious so that Danny knew he wasn't making fun of him. He hoped it was enough to soothe his friend's fragile ego. It took a minute, but Danny finally answered.

"I try to be," he said, still looking out the window. To which Flack immediately replied,

"You are."

A few more minutes passed before Danny was able to look at Flack, and go back to the comparatively less awkward original subject.

"Anyway, in case you ever do decide to try for her, there's something you oughta know: its Mac you gotta worry about, not me. I may be her best friend, but even I don't know if there's anything between them."

Inwardly, Flack noted the advice, but verbally brushed it aside as not being needed.

"Like I said, why waste a good friendship? There are plenty of girls out there. There's gotta be someone I can go out with that I don't have to worry about implications if things don't work out. Hasn't that ever worried you? Dating Lindsay?"

"Nahh. I like her, so why worry about something that might or might not happen?"

_True._ Flack thought, impressed by the reasonableness of Danny's statement. On the other hand, he couldn't really take his friend's words at face value. There was a certain air of possessiveness when Danny stated that he was Stella's best friend. Plus, Flack found Danny's urging that he ask Stella out a bit suspicious. _The guy is trying too hard. It's as if he wants me to go out with Stella, so he can finally close that door. Sorry Danny, but I'm not going to do it. I'm not going to get stuck in the middle of anything. This is something you gotta work out on your own. _

He hoped Lindsay could help his friend with that. Even though Flack doubted she had the emotional capacity to get Danny to open up to her, he knew that given enough time, Danny would slowly do it on his own. It just took him longer than normal to start trusting people.

**Author's Note:** It's taking me a while, but I'm slowly getting back in the groove. I had to wait for my CSI Season 4 box set to arrive. I've already seen the season, but I need to rewatch all the episodes before I can confidently post up the chapters relating to them.


	35. On Perspective

**On Perspective, take one. **

(general spoilers up to and including, Season 4, episode 2, The Deep)

_Flack: "What do you say we split the list?"(of witnesses)_

_Stella: "Let me guess, you get all the single women?"_

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It felt good to be able to joke together like that again, without wondering if anything was meant by it.

Things have cooled off between us for a while now. At least Danny and Lindsay have it hot and heavy. But I think it's good. It's given me some perspective. Stella is a wonderful woman. But that doesn't necessarily mean she's the one for me. I need to get out there. And I don't mean playing the field. I mean look for a real, meaningful relationship; one that actually has a future.

I don't want to be alone the rest of my life.

**On Perspective, take two. **

(general spoilers up to and including, Season 4, episode 2, The Deep)

_Flack: "What do you say we split the list?" (of witnesses)_

_Stella: "Let me guess, you get all the single women?"_

DFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFS

It felt good to be able to joke together like that again, without wondering if anything was meant by it.

Things have cooled off between us for a while now. At least Danny and Lindsay have it hot and heavy. But I think it's good. It's given me some perspective. Don is a wonderful man. But that doesn't mean he's the one for me. I need to get out there. And I don't mean playing the field. I mean look for a real, meaningful relationship; one that actually has a future.

I don't want to be alone the rest of my life

**Author's Note:** (I got the idea for this chapter from the talented _foxdvd_. A couple of years ago a read trio of fics by her that turned out to be exactly the same. Only, they were about different TV series. I thought it would be a nice change of pace to use a similar method here. Go read her stuff people. Do it for me. I've been depriving myself of the pleasure cause I try not to read fanfics about a series I'm writing about. It's a way for me to ensure I don't copy writing styles and ideas. (It was working too, except for this chapter that popped up. I spent a while trying to remember where I got the idea from.) I can't remember the last time I read a CSI: NY fic *sigh*. On the other hand, it gives me time to indulge in my Chase (from House) obsession. Which is my next project, after I finally finish this monster of a fic.


	36. On Lindsay's Goof

**On Lindsay's Goof**

(Spoilers up to, and including, Season 4, Episode 2, The Deep)

_Lindsay: "The worst thing was just sitting there watching not being able to do anything." _

_Danny: "Wasn't much better in person, trust me." _

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Lindsay was trying to convey how worried she had been, she wanted to expose the fear that gripped her, thinking that something might have happened to him. But she couldn't.

"How's Hawkes doing, is he okay?"

"Banged up his arm pretty bad, cracked a rib. He's tough though, said he'll be back to work tomorrow."

"You know, he's lucky he had you down there with him Danny," she said, hoping he'll get how proud of him she was. He glanced at her and she gave him a meaningful look.

"Stop goofing off, we got work to do." Lindsay smiled at his reaction.

_It's so cute that gets easily embarrassed. _

She wished she had a better way of telling him how brave she thought he was, and how attached she was becoming to him, but something held her back.

_This will have to do, for now. _


	37. On Hawke's Danny

**On Hawke's Danny**

(Spoilers up to, and including, Season 4, Episode 2, The Deep)

_Danny: "Me and my brother, we used to take out my grandfather's old row boat out to the harbor, dive for bottles." _

_Hawkes: "Sounds like big fun." _

_Danny: "Yeah, yeah, yeah, except this one time, we drifted out to the shipping lane, coast guard had to come scoop us up. Mom was so pissed off, she didn't talk to me for a week. Was kind of a peaceful week." _

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It hit Sheldon when he was at the hospital. Danny was younger than his brother Louie. _The older brother should be the one responsible, why would his mother get mad at him and not Louie?_ He hoped he'd get a chance to ask him about it that evening. He was going to stop over at the lab to thank him.

"What are you doing here, man?"

"I wanted to make sure everybody was cool."

"Everything worked out."

"Good, good."

"You should be home in bed by the looks of it."

"I just wanted to, uh, you know."

"Hey, hey forget about it, all right? It's all in a day's work, right? You'd do the same for me though?"

"Well…"

Danny chuckled, putting an arm on Sheldon's shoulders.

"Flack's rubbing off on you."

"Hey, I can't always be on the receiving end of the jokes."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Wanna come over for pizza?"

"Sure, I'm starving. We've been so busy today, all I got was vending machine junk."

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"So, did you dive with your brother a lot?" Sheldon asked, in the middle of his third slice of Ray's excellent pepperoni cheese.

"Mostly when were kids. Mom like us to have stuff to do together, it was her way of having me keep tabs on Louie."

"He used to get into trouble from an early age?"

"I guess," Danny said noncommittally , taking a bite of pizza, "you sure missed an exciting day, though," he said, stopping to swallow, "You should have seen Mac today."

Hawkes noticed the unsubtle change of subject. _Guess he's not ready to talk about Louie yet._ Being raised to respect other people's privacy, he went with it.

"Yeah, what did he do?" the doctor asked, displaying keen interest in the new topic.

"I was interrogating the suspect, asking him where he planted the bomb, and the boss just walks in, slams the guy into the wall, and presses his arm against his throat."

"You serious?"

"Yup. Once a marine, always a marine, I guess."

"And what did you do, you didn't just let him strangle him?"

"You kidding? There was no way I was gonna get involved. Mac was so pissed, he would've taken me out if I tried to stop him. I told him to take it easy. I was afraid someone was gonna see him so I shut the door, thought maybe he'd come to his senses. Thank God Flack came in and gave us the information Stella downloaded. I don't even want to think about what would have happened."

"I guess you can't blame the guy. It's only natural that terrorist acts hit a nerve for him."

"Yeah, but I'd hate to be caught with him in that situation again," Danny said, his voice trailing off, concentrating on the pizza in front of him. Hawkes regarded him. It seemed totally fitting for Danny's personality to not want to see Mac angry.

_I wonder why that is?_

One of the best perks of becoming a CSI had been his growing friendship with Danny. Needing more human contact, _live _human contact, was one of the reason's Sheldon had made the switch from being a medical examiner.

He knew that some people might see his job changes and think him fickle. Those who knew him well knew he was anything but.

Sheldon Hawkes was actually a very well grounded person; dedicated to anything he did. He was a person who was incredibly self aware of his talents, needs, and how to combine both to be the best at whatever he undertook.

Knowing that he wanted to help people, and having a high GPA with a strong stomach, he became a doctor. But the powerlessness of being unable to save too many lives left him scarred. He was no longer able to give the same amount of dedication to his job. So he left the emergency room for the medical examiner's office. It had been just what he needed. There was no way guilt could plague him there; the people were already dead. There was no room to second-guess himself or anyone to accuse him of not doing enough. And he was still helping people; helping give them closure, while simultaneously taking time to heal his own wounds. Being a medical examiner had been good for him. It was just what he needed.

He realized it had stopped being fulfilling when he discovered that the most fun he had as was the part of explaining to the CSI's the cause of death. The actual discovery of it was no longer enough. He longed to leave with them, help chase down the leads the will bring down criminals. And that's when he understood; he needed the human interaction again. He wanted to be around people again. So, he switched jobs again.

Some of his friends tried talking him out of it. Why start at the bottom when he already at the top? He didn't care what anyone said. He didn't even defend his decision. All he said was; "I need to do what's best for me." And that had been it; because he was Sheldon Hawkes, that explanation had been enough.

He never regretted the decision. Every day he went to work, he felt grateful for having a job that made him happy. The best part of it was how close he had gotten to the rest of the team. Especially Danny.

He was good friends with the younger CSI since joining their team, and yet, despite working together for so long, sometimes he still felt like he barely knew him.

This was one such moment.

Sheldon knew enough to comprehend how seeing those he cared about angry made Danny nervous, insecure even. But he still had no idea why.

_Maybe having to answer to mommy for an older brother's mistakes has something to do with it? _

He had met Danny's mother the first year he became a CSI. Danny had invited him over for Sunday dinner after he found out that Sheldon never tried real mozzerella. His dad had been there as well. The dinner had been pleasant, if uneventful. It hadn't made any impression on Sheldon, except of Danny's mother being an incredible cook.

And again he wondered: _What makes him the way he is?_

He hoped Danny would let him in close enough so that he'd be able to find out someday.

**Author's note:** Is it too much to ask that the creators of CSI: NY let us know if Louie is dead or still in a coma? It's really getting on my nerves. I think we're supposed to assume that he's dead, but is it too much to ask that we get a clear-cut answer?


	38. On Flack's New Girlfriend

**On Flack's New Girlfriend**

(Spoilers up to and including, season 4 episode 3, You Only Die Once)

"This high up you'd think a break in would be pretty tough," Flack stated.

"No prints," Stella informed him. Before he could reply, his girlfriend's voice broke through. She was on the phone.

"They were here. No I didn't, but Don saw one of them," she said looking at him with pride. _Kind of odd since I didn't even catch the perp,_ Flack thought.

"Is that shock or just weird?" He asked Stella, hoping she could explain the behavior of a fellow female.

"She's a lucky girl. She just got robbed by a secret agent. She's gonna get all kinds of invitations for all the in parties," Stella explained, then, all business, moved on, "So did you get a description of the car?"

"Yup, just your average super sale spy car, whatever model comes with the blue fire getaway package," Flack deadpanned.

Okay," she answered, laughing. _For a second I had thought he was serious._

Finishing her phone call, Flack's girlfriend joined them.

"So, we are invited to a very exclusive fundraiser Friday night," she said, flinging her arm round his shoulders. Almost possessively, Stella thought.

"Good," Flack answered her, but he was looking at Stella. 

_For what? Approval? To see my reaction?_

"So did either one of you get a look at the thief?" Stella asked, getting back to the task at hand.

"Yeah he was medium build, had light brown hair, scar on his left cheek."

"That's very specific."

"Guy turned the lights on when he came in," Flack explained.

"He did? What kind of thief sneaks into an apartment in the middle of the night and turns on the lights?"

Before a guess could be ventured, Flack's phone rang.

With a quiet "excuse me", he untangled himself from Devon's arm. Then nodded to Stella that something had come up on their case, and he was leaving.

She left soon afterwards, to take the processed evidence to the lab. As she drove, she reflected that it had been a bit weird, processing Flack's girlfriend's apartment, but interesting. It was the first she ever heard of him being in a relationship. Devon was very pretty, which was to be expected. She was a bit aloof though. _I'd be ticked if my place was robbed, but I guess that's just me_.

Stella had made sure to keep her opinion it to herself when Flack asked her to explain his girlfriend's behavior.

_But what was that look he gave me? It was almost like he was showing his girlfriend off, except he's too much of a gentleman to treat a girlfriend like a trophy. Also, he looked genuinely happy._

Stella smiled. _To each his own I guess._

**Author's Note:** All the dialogue in this chapter was taken from the episode mentioned in the title.


	39. On Superiors

**On Superiors**

(Spoilers up to and including, season 4 episode 3, You Only Die Once)

_Sinclair: "You're all over the news detective Flack. NYPD detective in high speed pursuit. Yeah I'm getting calls from city hall, bureau, council.." _

_Flack: "Listen Chief I'm sor-" _

_Sinclair: "You know NYPD has a strict policy against high speed chases, or did you forget that?_

_Flack: "No sir."_

_Sinclair: Next time you want to run a $60 cab fare you do that on your own time. You're lucky no one got hurt."_

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After the Chief ended his reprimand, he headed towards Mac without giving Flack a chance to finish his apology. "Taylor, talk to me."

_I guess it's for the best. _Flack thought._ I might have pointed out that I had been on my own time when my girlfriend's place got robbed._

Hawkes gave him a sympathetic look, which Flack understood easily: the chief was just frustrated because he was probably robbed by these same guys, and was taking his anger out on him.

Then Flack overheard what Sinclair was saying to Mac.

"They're making the department look really bad, but I want you to step up the investigation, whatever resources you need. I wanna get these guys."

_Now there's a contradiction. If he's really ready to put whatever resources' on the job, then why the hell does he care about the cab fare? What a hypocrite._ Then a thought entered Flack's head. _Or he's probably just pissed cause I was so close to the perps but didn't' manage to catch them. _

Either way, he didn't think Sinclair liked him very much.

He still remembered the look of derision, coupled with condescending words the Chief had given him at the courthouse, the day he testified for Mac's internal investigation.

"_A trial like this could have a lot of effect on a lot of people. From a powerful chief, to a lowly third grade detective."_

The words were obviously meant to put him in his place. He also remembered what his former Captain, Inspector Gerard had said.

"_Don's smart, he knows how to do the right thing"_

Don heard Gerard's message loud and clear. It was almost fatherly in a way: 'do this for your own good'. Don appreciated the sentiment behind it, but was greatly disappointed. Ever since his former captain's promotion, it seemed like Gerard forgot how it was to be a cop, and was now only interested in the political aspects of his job.

But it seemed that he at least still cared about Don who was smart enough to know that Gerard was warning him to not ruffle Sinclair's feathers.

So from that day, Flack's danger radar was on high alert whenever he faced a situation that entailed a possible run in with the Chief. Which is why he had tried to appease him the instant he showed up, but Sinclair hadn't been interested.

_At least he and Mac seem to have put the internal investigation behind them, though. Saves me a lot of headaches._


	40. On Flack's New Girlfriend part 2

**On Flack's New Girlfriend (part 2)**

(Spoilers up to and including, season 4 episode 3, You Only Die Once)

_Danny: "Oh, how's that new girlfriend?" _

_Flack: "Keep walking Mess."_

"_No seriously, where'd you meet her?"_

"_Met her at a charity event, Police fire hockey game." _

"_So she's got teeth, or-"_

"_Move." _

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Danny grinned, and took off. He had been a bit miffed at Flack for not telling him about Devon earlier. He only found out about her that day from Hawkes. It had come as a surprise for Danny who was very happy for his best friend. _Hope this one lasts. He hasn't been in a steady relationship for a long time. _

A part of him was also shamelessly glad that the new girlfriend wasn't a curly haired Greek bombshell.

_I thought I was done. I told him to go for her. But it looks like I wasn't ready yet. _


	41. On Mac’s Problem

**On Mac's Problem**

(Spoilers up to and including, season 4 episode 3, You Only Die Once)

_Flack: "Listen, let me have intel do a threat assessment, get you some protection." _

_Mac: "That's not necessary." _

"_Come on, what if this guy is trying to kill you?"_

"_He not going hurt me, yet, the calls, the way he's taunting me, they're methodical deliberate actions. He has a plan." _

DFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFDSDFS

Flack's conversation with Mac about the stalker left him feeling both apprehensive and satisfied. He was glad Mac confided in him, it spoke more than anything as to the trust that had built up between them.

_It's a far cry from completely ignoring me when I tried to reach him during the Dobson internal investigation. _

And even though Mac refused Don's advice to get protection, he at least heard it. Flack himself wasn't happy with the decision.

_I'd feel a lot better if he'd let Intel in on this; but I guess he knows what he's doing. _


	42. On Bond Night

**On Bond Night**

(Spoilers up to and including, season 4 episode 3, You Only Die Once)

_Stella: Now when we first interviewed Rodrigez, he said he was planning the mayor's benefit. That's tonight. _

_Flack: Stans partner will probably be there. _

_Stella: You got a tux?_

DFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFDSDFS

When Stella mischievously asked Flack if he had a tux, he knew what she had in mind. What he hadn't anticipated was the stunning dress she had on when he picked her up at her apartment.

"Nice tux," she greeted him, getting into the SUV. _Wow, he cleans up good._

"Nice dress," he replied, reciprocating the compliment. _She looks awesome. No Bond girl has anything on her. _

"Thanks."

DFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFDSDFS

"Flack," Don gave his name to the Bouncer, "Don Flack," he couldn't help add.

He felt good. Powerful, and completely at ease in his role. They split up, and he after a while he checked on her progress.

"Anything?" he murmured to Stella over his hidden Mic.

"Nothing. No traces of smart water," she answered.

"All right let me know."

"I heard when cops work too hard they start talking to themselves," Flack's girlfriend's voice came in through his mic. Stella remembered that he was supposed to attend the event with her.

"Devon,"_ busted,_ he thought.

"You told me you'd be working tonight. What is this some undercover thing?"

_This is such bad timing. We're busy, we should get rid of her quickly,_ Stella thought.

"Tell her you'll make it up to her," she advised.

"I'll make this up to you," Flack immediately said.

"Yes you will," Devon stated, leaning in close to whisper in Flack's ear, "I think spies are sexy," before sauntering away. As Flack looked at her great figure, he smiled, thinking how much he'll enjoy keeping his promise.

Elsewhere in the room, Stella was feeling quite embarrassed. Flack's girlfriend's voice was very suggestive, making Stella, the unwilling listener; feel very warm, despite her dress's open back and plunging neckline.

_Back to work. _

DFLSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFS

_Stella: Okay Mr. Rodriguez who is your favorite Bond villain?_

_Rodriguez: I don't go the movies I prefer live theatre. _

_Flack: That makes sense. With the act you've been doing around town, stealing peoples jewelry, downloading information, not to mention you and your people interrupted a very important third date. _

_Rodriguez: I don't know what you're talking about. _

_Flack (interrogating a suspect): My girlfriend went to your butterfly shindig. Left early to meet me, and she got a visit from your secret agent friend._

DFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFDSDFS

_Flack: The guy I saw in the car, after my girlfriends place was robbed was you. _

_Perp: For once, I wanted to wear the suit, get the girl, they were never gonna let that happen. _

DFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFDSDFS

It had been a very exciting night for Flack's. True, a suspect tried to run him over, causing him to jump away and ruining his suit in the process. But nothing could ruin his Bond night. Not with Stella looking hot as hell, and Devon sexy as hell.

He was really looking forward to finishing his date. But that didn't keep him from chatting with Stella on their way out of the precinct, after booking the suspect.

"What a shmuck. Can you believe how desperate for action some guys are?"

"Yeah, I can," Stella said, looking at him, a teasing smile on her face.

"What?"

"You seem a little hard up for some action yourself. Why don't you go meet Devon? You've been bringing her up all night."

Flack blushed.

"When she got robbed we were kind of in the middle of…"

"A very important third date, right?" Stella finished for him, eyebrow raised.

Flack's already pink face turned redder.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said, deciding not to embarrass him any further. "Great work today."

"You too. And Stella?

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for your advice earlier."

"You're welcome."

As Stella watched Flack drive off, a grin on his face, she felt a pang of loneliness.

_I think I'll go see what Mac is up to. Maybe he'll want to grab dinner before heading home. _

**Author's Note:** Hello all. It's been a while. Sorry about the disappearing act. New baby plus other stuff has been keeping me busy. This chapter ends the ones centering on the episode 'You only Die Once'. I'll try to get out more chapters quicker.


	43. On Relationships

**On Relationships **

(general series spoilers for Season 4 episode 4, Time's Up)

_On Drew Bedford's gifts to Stella._

_Mac: You and I are alike in a lot of ways, we both do everything we can to avoid this sort of thing. Sometimes you just gotta take the plunge._

_Stella: So you're telling me to fall for all of this?_

_Mac: Stella, Peyton pursued me. I never thought I'd enjoy another relationship either, forget about all the risks of romance and enjoy the rewards." _

DFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFDSDFS

Despite Mac's advice, Stella decided she'd rather listen to her instincts when it came to Drew Bedford. She had checked him out in their computer records and he was clean, but she still wasn't satisfied. After almost being killed by Frankie Mala more than a year ago, she hadn't had a new boyfriend, nor was she looking for one.

Mac on the other hand seemed like he was doing well with Peyton. _I still can't believe it; Mac is giving positive advice on relationships. He must really be blissfully happy. _

She was happy for him, but the feeling was bittersweet. .

_Mac has Peyton. Danny has Lindsay, and now Flack has a girlfriend too. _

It wasn't that she was jealous; but people in new relationships always spent as much time together as possible. She doubted any of her male friends will have time to spend with her now that they had girlfriends.

_Oh well. D&G have an amazing collection this season, so I can use some overtime money. Plus there're several movies I've wanted to rent. _

Stella smiled slightly at her plan to keep herself from feeling idle. She knew that as long as she kept herself busy, she'd have no time to feel lonely.

Then that night, as she went to put a file on Mac's desk, a paper dropped. She picked it up and saw that it was a letter from Peyton.

_She broke up with him! Today, of all days, when he was talking about how happy he was! _

The cruel irony was too much. Stella looked for Mac, wanting to make sure he was okay. But he wasn't in the lab. And his things; his wallet, his gun and his phone weren't in his office either.

_He must have left for the night. Could he really have forgotten to lock his office? _

Locking the door for him, Stella decided she'd drop by his apartment to give him the key before going home.

_It's just as well. It'll give him a chance to talk, if he needs to. Though, knowing him, I doubt he'll bring it up. _

But just as she got in her cab, she remembered it was the day when Mac played guitar. Glancing at her watch she saw there was still enough time to go home and change her clothes before his performance started. So she gave the cabbie directions to her apartment, and asked him to wait for her when she arrived. It didn't take her long to decide on what to wear. One of the rare compliments Mac had given her was to mention that red was his favorite color.

_Actually, it wasn't exactly a compliment. I was just wearing red that day, and he said he thought it was a great color for women. _Stella mused. Putting on a red top, she ran downstairs quickly, got into the cab and headed for the club where Mac played.

The club was more crowded than usual, but Stella managed to find a seat not too far from the stage. As she expected Mac didn't look like he was enjoying himself. He was usually at his most cheerful when playing, but Stella could tell that night he was doing so automatically. His heart just wasn't into the music. Then he saw her, smiled a bit, and became more involved in the performance.

Stella had to fight the tears of sympathy.

Afterwards she gave him his keys. And looking at her expressive face he knew that she knew. But neither said anything. Instead, they sat together, drinking and talking. And an incredibly nostalgic feeling overcame Stella.

_I'm sorry about the circumstances, but this feels good, like old times. Like we're back in the relationship losers circle, but we don't mind, because it feels familiar, comfortable; and because we're in it together. _

She suddenly realized how much she had missed him since he started seeing Peyton. How much she missed the intimacy they shared. But she would never let such emotions prevent her from being there for him, from giving him the advice she knew he needed.

"So what are you going to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"Mac, Peyton made you happier than I've seen you since," she faltered, then continued, deciding she didn't have to shy away from the subject anymore, "since Claire died. Just this morning, when you were telling me to go for the guy that sent me the parachute, when you brought up Peyton, you looked so content and happy. You can't just let it end like this. Not if you meant what you said to me."

Mac sighed, looking down at his drink. Stella reached over and patted his hand.

"I just want you to be happy. At least make sure you don't have any regrets."

Mac raised his stormy blue eyes and looked her, and gave her a sad smile, then nodded slightly.

**Author's note:** *sigh* I love Stella.


	44. On Danny's Spaghetti

**On Danny's Spaghetti**

(General series spoilers for Season 4 episode 4, Time's Up)

_Stella: There's no way she did all that to herself. _

_Sid: Not unless she was capable of drawing on her buttocks. _

_Danny: I know a kid in the Bronx who could blow out a candle with- _

_Stella: What about stomach contents._

DFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFDSDFS

After they wrapped up the case, Danny had gone home. Lindsay was on her way over to spend the night and he was making spaghetti for dinner. He was making meatballs, because that was how she liked it. Personally, Danny preferred the mincemeat to be distributed evenly through the sauce. But he wanted to do something for her. After all, it wasn't a big deal, and he knew she'd appreciate the small gesture of affection. It had nothing to do with his feeling guilty. After all, he had done nothing to feel guilty about.

Danny had made several cracks that day that he felt were harmlessly funny. Sure some of them were suggestive, but Stella had been completely unaffected; cutting him off once, and deflecting another time.

_If it were Flack she would probably have smiled, or joked back, maybe even flirted. But she just doesn't want to hear it from me. _

He didn't feel guilty because he was upset she hadn't laughed. He didn't feel guilty because it hurt him thinking she didn't think he was funny. He would have been just as hurt if it had been Sheldon who cut him off from telling a racy story.

_And if it was Mac who was working the case with me instead of Stella, I would have made that same remark to him about me not needing any sexual enhancers. _

Just because Danny was making Spaghetti for Lindsay the way she liked it, didn't mean that he felt guilty. Just because it hurt him that Stella wouldn't react to his innuendos didn't mean that he was still in love with her.

**Author's Note:** I feel like this plot has gone on long enough. I'm going to try wrap it up quickly since there are so many other plots to explore. Interestingly, whenever I try to speed things along, I end up adding more chapters. This is one such chapter that I just added at the last minute. As always, your feedback is indispensible. This fic will hopefully, _finally_ take off in around ten more chapters.


	45. On Relationships part 2

**On Relationships (part 2)**

(General Series spoilers, up to Season 4, episode 5, "Down the Rabbit Hole"

Stella's words had kept Mac up that night. She had told him that she didn't want him to have any regrets, and he realized he didn't want to have any either. So he purchased an online ticket, packed a small-carry on and sent a text message telling Stella his plan so that she'd know he wouldn't be coming to work for a while.

The next morning he went to the airport but he stopped at the gate. He couldn't get on his flight. Peyton's words in her letter went through his mind again, and he realized that she was right. Her place was in England, with her family. He had seen how much she loved it there. It was just as much as he loved New York. He realized that he probably had known she wouldn't be coming back when she extended her stay. Nothing he could do, or say would change anything. It would just make the situation needlessly harder on both of them. So he had returned his bag to his apartment and headed to work instead. Stella had been both surprised and concerned when she saw him.

"What happened?"

Mac gave her a sad smile.

"Some things are just out of our control, Stella."

And she understood then; that he had known this was coming. It had been another reason for his edginess; not just the 333 calls, when he got back to the States.

Stella reached and gently squeezed his arm.

"I'm so sorry."


	46. On Being Haunted

**On Being Haunted**

(General Series spoilers, up to Season 4, episode 6, "Boo")

_Flack: "So Stella tell me your mysterious caller disappeared." _

_Mac: "I haven't had a call at 3:33 a.m. in over a week." _

_Flack: "Maybe your guy decided it was finally time to stop stalking you." _

_Mac: "Maybe he's getting ready to take it to the next level." _

DFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFDSDFS

"This is going to be a long night," Stella stated.

"Hey, I told you to bring help," Flack said.

"Lindsay and Danny have a crime scene at Amityville."

"That's not fair. They get to tour as they work and we're stuck with these wierdos," Flack deadpanned as he moved out of the way of a man dressed as a zombie with a knife suck in his head.

They both stood for a while just looking at the huge perimeter of the crime scene, or more accurately, all the people surrounding it covered in what appeared to be blood.

"What the hell is this anyway," she demanded, not bothering to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

"Zombie Flash Mob," Flack explained.

"New Halloween fad?"

"Guess covering houses with toilet paper is no longer in."

"Well, I'm going to start processing but I want you to call Mac, tell him to come as soon as he can."

"I thought he was off today."

"He was."

"Oh I get it. You want me to make the call so I get the heat for ruining his day," Flack accused good naturedly."

"Technically, its evening now," Stella smiled, "And I already called him; he didn't answer. And my battery died, so he won't be able to reach me if he calls back. Beside's, I don't think he'd mind the disturbance much. He's in a better mood these days."

"Really? He must have started getting over Peyton." Flack remarked, then watched with interest as the grin left Stella face and was replaced with an expression of surprise.

"True, but also cause it's been a while since his stalker gave him a call, so he hasn't been as tense," she stated, then immediately asked, "How did you know Peyton broke up with him?"

"He told me, last week. I knew he hasn't been sleeping so I asked him about it. He said she wasn't coming back."

"Wow."

Flack could understand Stella's reaction. He had also been surprised when Mac confided in him, especially since it was a purely personal matter. It wasn't like when the Crime Head told him about the 333 caller because he needed Flack's help. This time he had told Flack about Peyton simply because he wanted to.

Both Don and Stella knew that this meant the ex-Marine was learning how to share his emotions. It was a very good development for their friend, and both were happy to see it.

DFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFDSDFS

"Wanna come over tonight?" Danny asked Lindsay, as they were leaving the lab. They had just wrapped up their Amityville 'haunted house' case.

"Yeah, I was going to stop home for a change of clothes first."

"Nice, an all-nighter," he smiled broadly.

"I just don't want to sleep alone tonight," she clarified. Danny's smile disappeared.

"Yeah, I know what you mean, really crappy case," he bit out.

"Two whole families destroyed just because a man liked his guns. I think I might actually agree with an anti-gun law being passed," Lindsay stated.

"Yeah. So I'll be waiting for you, okay?"

"Ok. I'll see you in a bit."

Several hours later……..

Post-coitus, Lindsay laid her head on Danny's chest, waiting for his pulse to return to normal. She wanted to say something, but wasn't sure where to start. Danny had been attentive and even more vigorous than normal, but something had been off. His actions were somewhat mechanical; almost automatic.

_Like a car set on cruise control. _

The Duncan's case had really got to Danny. To the point that he was afraid it would distract him from Lindsay when they went to bed. So he tried to put it out of his mind and focus only on her. But seeing how quiet she was, it didn't seem like he fared very well; he may have overcompensated.

He was trying to think of something to say, wanted to work up the courage to ask her if she was ok. Then she beat him to it.

"Are you okay?" Lindsay asked when she finally felt his heartbeat slow down.

Danny let out a deep breath in relief. Her worry meant that she wasn't angry, that he didn't hurt her. But she could tell something was wrong.

"God, what a shitty case," he stated. He didn't want to say anything else or delve any deeper into why he was so affected.

But he needn't have worried.

Lindsay raised her head to look at him, relieved that the reason for his melancholy wasn't something bigger than blues from their job. After all, she had been affected too.

"I know. It's not every day we find a kid's corpse in a suitcase. Let's just try to forget about it and go to sleep."

"Yeah," he remarked, smiling slightly.

_I should have known. She's thorough as a CSI but when it comes to emotions, she takes everything at face value. She never looks any deeper. She's unsuspecting, so she leaves me alone. _

_Maybe that's why I love her. _

Lindsay drifted off soon afterwards. But sleep didn't come as easily to her boyfriend. The case haunted him.

Henry, the murderer had blamed the devil for his actions.

It really pissed Danny off when people blamed other people for their mistakes, let alone the devil.

"You Henry, you killed that family it was not the devil," he had answered forcefully.

"You're wrong. The devil did kill that family that night. He came to me the day my sister died in that house. I just didn't know enough not to let him in."

_What a load of crap._

Danny believed that the devil existed, he was Catholic after all. And he knew evil existed. But he didn't think people should use either entities it to excuse their actions.

_Otherwise, everyone would just do whatever they want and blame it on the devil. _

It's anyone's guess where Danny would have ended up if such excuses had appealed to him.

_God knows I have my hands full keeping out of trouble. And I'm someone who always tries to do the right thing. _


	47. On Flack's Game

**On Flack's Game **

(General series spoilers, with references to episode 7, "Commuted Sentences")

_Flack: "Four older brothers and a detective Seargent for a father? Your old man dust _

_you for prints when you got home from a date?"_

_Angell: "If it were up to them I wouldn't have known boy's existed until I was 21."_

_Flack: "I'm sure the boys knew you existed."_

_Angell: "Was that a line, Flack? Did you just bust out your game on me?"_

_Flack: "What?"_

_Angell: "It was wasn't it, look at you your blushing!" _

_Flack: "Come on, game, game, I have no game. If I did that's probably as good as it _

_gets." _

_Angell: "I think it's pretty good."_

DFSDFSDFSDFSDFSDFDSDFS

Jessica Angell was organizing her desk before going home. It was a daily routine she never skipped because it always made the next morning that much easier. It also had the extra benefit of helping her get out of 'Detective mode' into 'Jessica mode'. But this time she found the procedure more bothersome than relaxing. After all, it was delaying her from doing something she had been looking forward to all day.

_Patience. I'll be done soon. _

Shortly, she heard Danny Messer enter. Looking up, she saw him sit on Don Flack's desk to chat.

Jessica groaned inwardly. She liked the Italian, but his presence meant another delay to her mission. Watching the two, her eyes lingered involuntarily on her tall dark and handsome coworker as he laughed at something his best friend said.

_I don't think I could ever get tired of seeing those dimples. _

She liked Don Flack, always had. And after her repartee with him earlier she had decided that she would ask him out after work.

_After I'm done here, and after Messer leaves. _

Separating completed paperwork from what she had to finish tomorrow, she placed the two piles into individual drawers. Finishing her task, she waited for Danny to leave.

_Wait, what if they're heading out together? _

Thankfully, Danny stood up alone and made his way to the door. Jessica got as well and headed to Flack's desk. She had almost reached her target when Danny popped his head back into the precinct and called out something to Flack that made her stop in her tracks.

"Say hi to your girlfriend for me."

"I will," Flack replied. He then noticed Jessica near his desk.

"Hey, Angell, did you need something?"

The female detective recovered quickly, and smiled at Flack.

"No, I was just heading out and wanted to say good night."

"Goodnight," Flack smiled politely at her.

_So much for asking him out_, Angell thought, leaving the precinct.

**Authors note: **

Hi. Just a small change of pace. Too big of a deal was made out of Devon (Flack's girlfriend in "You only die once" for her to disappear suddenly without ever being mentioned again. I'm not spending much time on her either, but I wanted to show how her presence might have affected some relevant people. By the way, I like Angell. And she plays a big role in the series, so she's going to show up here too from time to time.


	48. On Buzzkill

**On Buzzkill**

_Contains general series spoilers, with references and quotes from episode 7 season 4 "Buzzkill" (This chapter is an extrapolation on Stella's first 'date' with Drew on the rooftop ) _

Stella held her wine glass, and took a small sip.

"I can tell you're uncomfortable. And I don't think it's me," Drew stated out of the blue.

"What makes you so sure?" Stella answered with a smile.

"Well, you've been so resistant to me and you finally said yes to a drink. The fact that you work at the PD makes me think that you've probably checked me out by now. But the fact that you're still uneasy makes me think you've had your heart broken recently and you haven't quite gotten over it."

"Interesting theory," Stella said noncommittally.

You're not going to tell me if I'm right?"

"I don't know you that well," she answered frankly.

"Well, why don't you get to know me? Come on, let's start now. Ask me anything you want," he challenged.

"Okay, since you brought it up, what's your biggest heartbreak?"

"My biggest heartbreak…four years ago; Steve Barker."

"Steve?"

"He interfered with a foul ball at the playoffs, Cubs never recovered. It's the closest we've come to the World Series since," Drew continued with a big smile.

Stella attempt to answer his grin with a smile but the attempt was only half-hearted.

She could tell that the joke was a good one, even though she wasn't into sports. But the fact was that he had deflected her question.

"Stella, I'm getting the feeling I'm not scoring any runs I mean, that Steve Barker story, that, that's my fast ball."

"Look Drew, you're a very charming man." _He is, but this just won't work out. I just don't feel comfortable around him. It's time to end this… _

"Wait, before you say anything else. I've got a mean curve-ball," Drew interrupted, offering Stella a velvet covered box.

_My God, jewelry? What the hell!_

"I can't accept that," Stella stated, raising her hand, "The rooftop, drinks, and all the gifts your sending to the office, is just you know, way too aggressive and not my style."

"And you're not looking for a relationship," Drew accused mildly.

Stella sighed. _He doesn't get it. _

Then her pager went off.

_Saved by the bell._

"Uh, that's work, I gotta go. Thanks for the drinks."

"You got here quick," Flack remarked to Stella.

"I was in the neighborhood," Stella answered.

_Before, he might have asked me where I was. Or I would have mentioned I had been on a date. But that goes against the "co-worker" mode I've decided to adhere too. _

However, it was harder to do than Stella liked. Unlike Drew, whose smile practically screamed "I'm sexy and I know it", Flack's smile was unconsciously alluring and worked for her way more than any of Drew's initiatives.

There was, however, something in common between Don and Drew.

_Seriously, I thought I've been off men long enough, but maybe now I just need to swear off of all of them; young men in particular who are way too seductive. _

They both made warning lights flash in Stella's mind; albeit, for entirely different reasons.


	49. On Angell's Flack

**On Angell's Flack **

(General series spoilers, with references to episode 7, Commuted sentences")

Flack was gathering his keys and wallet after finishing his shift when he remembered that Angell was done for the day as well. Smiling, he went up to her desk.

"Wanna grab some coffee, or do you prefer dinner?"

"I don't play games, Flack," she answered firmly, while putting on her coat.

"Who's playing?" Flack answered, taken aback.

"You have a girlfriend," she stated, looking at him meaningfully.

"So what? That mean I can't have coffee with a co-worker?"

"So it's not a date?"

"It's defiantly not a date," he affirmed, surprised she would think it was.

"Good. But I can't today. Maybe some other time."

"Okay," Flack answered, bemused, watching her as she walked out.

Jessica Angell had been steering clear of Donald Flack ever since she found out that he had a girlfriend. It wasn't his fault. Well, it was, but she felt like she deserved some of the blame too.

What it came down to was this: Don Flack was a very good looking man. He was also a very strong man. Jessica liked strong men. And when strong, good looking men say things like "I bet the boys knew you existed," she conveniently interprets that comment as a pick-up line. And when strong, good looking men blush when she asks them if they were, in fact, hitting on her, she then interprets that as a symptom of physical attraction.

But when strong, good-looking, blushing men forget to tell her that they have girlfriends….well, she stops flirting with them.

In all fairness, it was obvious that the line was dropped spontaneously, a stray thought that impulsively made its way out of his mouth. That would explain his embarrassment when she called him on it. Indeed, men seasoned in flirting (like rumors say about Flack) do not blush. So, Angell could be forgiving if the flirting was unintentional. On the other hand, that fact only made the man all the more endearing. So, she stayed away from him because she knew she was too attracted to him to 'be good' while he was dating someone else.

Because Jessica Angell had no interest in being the 'other woman'; she was above that.

Besides, the fact that he was flirting with her meant that Flack was probably not too happy in his relationship. It would only be a matter of time before he broke it off. In the meantime, she just let him know that if he wanted her, all he had to do was ask for her.

But only when he was single.


	50. On Flack's Wake Up Call

**On Flack's Wake Up Call **

(General series spoilers, with references to episode 7, Commuted sentences")

Angell's abrupt refusal to eat together left Flack feeling confused. That evening, while having dinner alone he thought over what she said.

"_I don't play games, Flack." _

She had said it like an accusation. He guessed her demeanor was because of his 'boys knew you' line a few days before. He hadn't intended to flirt with her; but that was exactly what they had been doing.

_And she probably hadn't known that I had a girlfriend. _

That made sense to Flack, because if she knew, she wouldn't have called him on what she dubbed his "game"; not as playfully at least. More importantly, she wouldn't be angry now.

She was telling him that he can't flirt with her when he was involved.

Now that he understood, Don didn't blame her for being terse with him. In fact, he respected her for it.

What she didn't know was that he hadn't meant to give her any signals.

_It just happened. But why did it happen? I already have a hot girlfriend._

Chewing his steak, he tried to categorize his relationship with Devon.

And he simply couldn't. They had been very attracted to each other. But it just wasn't enough.

_The truth is we don't have a lot in common. I didn't think it would matter this much, but it does. More importantly, I don't think I even enjoy being with her. _

At least not the way he enjoyed being around Stella, or Angell for that matter.

_Whatever it is Devon and I have is not enough to stop me from wanting to be with other women. And we're still in the beginning of our relationship. I should be desperate for any spare moment to spend with her. I should be flirting with her, not with Angell. And if I was around Stella as much as I used to, I'd definitely be flirting with her as well._

But he was too smart to do that; it was too dangerous.

The problem was that working at the PD he needed someone he could talk to about "PD matters"; someone who knew the people he worked with, or at least was willing to get to know them. Devon was neither.

Flack had a few people he trusted a the PD. Safe people he knew wouldn't go around saying they heard him diss the Captain or whomever it was that rubbed him the wrong way on a given day.

Hawkes was a stand up guy, Mac was becoming more approachable, and there was always Gavin Moran. He knew their doors would always be open for him if he ever needed to talk.

But he and Hawkes weren't that close yet, Mac wasn't the best listener in the world, and Don went to his old-time mentor only as a last resort. He knew Gavin had recently worked up the courage to tell his daughters that they had a half-brother. The man had his hands full trying to integrate his family.

And Flack's best friends Danny and Stella were out of reach these days. Danny was too busy being with Lindsay. And Stella was so close to his heart that he had to stay away from her.

Flack missed Stella. He missed her banter and kindness and he missed talking to her. He now realized that was why he was drawn to Jessica. She was almost as easy to talk to and was also fun. Best of all, he didn't have to worry about any feelings towards her. They were strictly coworkers.

_Only now, after she found out about Devon, she doesn't want to hang out anymore. She's a classy lady. I guess if I weren't involved I might even ask her out…_ _No complications other than us being in the same department… she's also one heck of a looker…_

But even as his mind was tallying all Angell's wonderful qualities, Flack's mind raced with images of the enticing Greek.

Finishing his meal, Don got up to wash the dishes, feeling thoroughly disgusted with himself.

_Who am I kidding? I'm in love with Stella. The only reason I haven't asked her out yet is cause I was worried about how Danny might feel about it. I was going to wait for him to get over her, and give myself a chance to look for a relationship that actually has a future; one with fewer complications than dating a superior will bring. _

_So what do I do? I go out with Devon. Someone__ so out of my world that we barely speak the same language. Someone I'm so not into that I flirt with coworkers and would rather have dinner alone than with her. But she was hot, and she was available. _

_Danny's head over heels in love with Lindsay and I'm still going out with the rebound girl. _

Flack remembered how it felt to kiss Stella on the cheek, her spontaneous hugs, her soft hair on his face, and their accidental kiss. The thoughts were enough to send his heart racing with anticipation.

_That's it. I've got to break up with Devon. Obviously, there's no harm in asking Stella out now; at least, not to Danny. To me however…_

Flack could already feel knots of nervousness forming in his stomach.

_Suck it up Don. It's time to put up or shut up. But first things first. _

Grabbing his phone, he dialed Devon's number.

"Hey, Devon. How about lunch tomorrow?"

**Authors note: **

It took me 50 chapters to get this far. I guess it's time for me to put up or shut up too, isn't it *_*. I just need to clear something up. This fic was originally meant to follow _canon_ pairings. That means whatever characters end up together in the series will probably end up together here as well. My goal with this fic was to explore themes that the series touched up upon, but didn't elaborate on. (i.e. Danny and Stella's chemistry in season 1, Flack and Stella's chemistry in season 2, Lindsay's awkwardness with Danny, etc.) and give my personal take on them. I do have an original story stuck somewhere in between, and I have a vague idea of where it will end, but then the series keeps making fantastic episodes that I just want to include. I'll probably have stop and start writing a sequel soon. Again, I'm very sorry for the delay. Life got in the way. (rhyme completely unintentional). Also, the next few chapters are going to be incredibly hard to write so please bear with me if I take a while to upload.


	51. On the Rumor

**On the Rumor**

_(General series spoilers, with references to "The Thing About Hero's" (season 4 episode 10)._

Stella was fuming over the puzzle evidence connected to Mac's 333 caller. She didn't have any new leads, and she was still ticked over what Chief Sinclair's said when he came to the lab earlier that day.

"This can't be good," Flack had said softly stated, echoing her thoughts when they saw the Chief walking towards them.

Don had stood behind her Sinclair gave her the third degree, his ego bruised because Mac hadn't told him he was going to Chicago.

_He is so annoyed that he came himself, didn't send Inspector Gerard this time._ She had noted, before answering to him.

"Mac's in Chicago on personal business," she had stated calmly.

"Is he in trouble?" Flack had shaken his head and she had answered with a simple 'no'.

Sinclair should have been appeased. Despite the fact that his visit was unexpected, her and Flack's answers were perfectly in tune. And yet he hadn't believed them.

_Actually, he hadn't believed __**me**__. _Stella thought, remembering his parting words to her.

"There's a fine line between foolishness and loyalty. Make sure you don't cross it," he had admonished, before ordering Flack to walk with him. Don had given her a backward glance as he left, which she understood to mean that he would fill her in later.

In the meantime, she had gone back to the evidence trying to come up with a new clue to the identity of the suspect. But there was nothing, and she kept getting distracted. The chief had really gotten under her skin.

_Why does he just assume I'm covering for Mac, _she thought indignantly. Then she laughed at herself. _Cause I was, and he's smart enough to figure it out. After all, I did it before when he took off for London. I wonder what he wanted from Don._

As if on cue, her phone rang.

"Flack."

"Hey, Stel."

"So how badly did he ream you?"

"Chief's cool. He's just pissed cause he got blind sighted. And to prevent that from happening again I've been assigned Mac-duty. Sinclair's sending me to Chicago to be his eyes and ears there. I'm on my way to the airport right now."

"Mac's gonna love that," Stella drawled.

"Tell me about it," Flack answered, and Stella could imagine him shaking his head. Then a thought suddenly hit her.

"Actually, it's probably a good idea. I'm sure you can help him out, what with you being sent officially on police business. Mac's been told all he has is civilian status there."

"Yeah, I could appeal to him from that angle," Flack agreed.

"Ok. Good luck, and let me know if something comes up."

"Will do," he answered, closing his phone.

As Don drove, he thought about what he hadn't told Stella about his conversation with the Chief as he walked him to his car.

"I want you to go to Chicago; keep Taylor in check," Sinclair had ordered.

"Sir, what is it you are suspecting him of?" Flack asked.

"Being a proud jackass," the Chief had immediately retorted. Flack barely kept his face straight, thinking that it took one to know one. "Just make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. I don't believe Bonasera's story."

"Chief," Don started but was interrupted by the chief's raised hand.

"Don't even try to defend her. This isn't the first time she's covered for him. She's either been working with him for too long or the rumors about them must be true."

"What rumors?" Flack asked, baffled, though he was pretty sure he could guess what the chief meant. And it made him queasy.

"Don't insult my intelligence Detective," Sinclair had warned, "You know what I'm talking about. Now I'm against spreading any talk myself, and I've given both of them the benefit of the doubt. But if there is even a slight chance of it being true, then I can't risk trusting Bonasera's judgment."

"Chief, I assure you, whatever you've heard isn't true. It's just squad room gossip," Flack stated earnestly, being careful not to sound overly defensive.

"Regardless, I'd be foolish not to consider it when I make my decisions. Someone should keep an eye on Taylor. Bonasera is needed here to cover the Crime Lab, so I couldn't send her even if I trusted. I want you to step up."

"But chief, he'll be very insulted if I show up while he's taking a personal day," he said, wanting to back up Mac's story. By association, he'd be backing up Stella's word too.

"Then tell him it stopped being personal the moment the Chicago PD contacted me about him. And tell him to return quickly so he can go back to only pissing off his superiors here."

The conversation had left a bad taste in Flack's mouth.

Speculation over whether Mac and Stella were more than friends wasn't anything new. Flack himself had heard chit chat (sometimes lewd, sometimes curious in nature) about them numerous times.

_But not for a good while now._

Certainly, not since he befriended the two. Many at the precinct had been interested to hear his opinion on whether the Crime lab head and his beautiful second in command were secretly dating. Flack had immediately set the record straight.

His opinion regarding Mac and Stella friendship was further enforced with time. Years passed and even the nosiest members of the PD couldn't find anything to fuel their scandalous claims. The gossip eventually abated, and had stopped altogether when Mac and Peyton started dating.

_So what changed?__ Just because Mac is single now doesn't mean he and Stella will hook up. _

Flack had broken up with Devon a few days ago and had wanted to ask Stella out ever since. But then the 333 caller started up again and they were all busy with that. There hasn't been a good time.

_Now Sinclair wants to stick me with Mac in Chicago._

Flack knew there was no way he'd ask Mac about the rumor. He saw the man pine over Peyton. He knew there was nothing between him and Stella. And yet, he remembered something Danny had said to him after their little heart to heart at the bar…

"_In case you ever do decide to try for her, there's something you oughta know: it's Mac you gotta worry about, not me. I may be her best friend, but even I don't know if there's anything between them."_

The memory gave Flack pause. Not just because of what Danny's warning regarding his boss. It made Flack recall Danny's adamant statement that **he** was Stella's best friend, not Mac.

Flack disagreed, but that didn't matter. What did matter his sudden recollection of how possessive Danny had sounded.

_No. Danny's in love with Lindsay now. I don't have to worry about him anymore. More importantly, what caused Sinclair to suddenly question Mac and Stella's relationship? If there really is a new rumor about them, why I haven't heard it before now?_

Feeling a headache coming on, Flack decided to forget about it subject, at least for now.

_It was probably just a new employee at the lab who doesn't know anything about them and misinterpreted their intimacy. It'll die out soon. _

_And if it doesn't, the best way to stop it is to give them something else to talk about. Like how she and I are dating. _

Notwithstanding how unlikely it was for Stella to talk about who she was dating, the idea nonetheless appealed to Don greatly.

_But first, we gotta catch this 333 psycho. _

**Author's note: **

Sorry for the disappearing act. There were so many wrinkles to iron out of this one. I've finally given up, for better or worse.


	52. On Mac's Most Important Person

**On Mac's Most Important Person**

_(General series spoilers, with references to "The Thing About Hero's" (season 4 episode 10)._

Flack was walking home alone feeling very disheartened and angry.

That evening the team gathered at Sullivan's to celebrate the capture of Drew Bedford. He was the 333 caller; a young man from Mac's past who blamed him for the death of his brother.

The occasion was very cheerful. But something happened that ruined it for Flack.

Mac was explaining Drew Bedford's plan; how he had wanted to make Mac suffer the loss of a loved one. Drew had counted on Stella to walk into the trap he set and get killed in front of Mac.

"I was worried. I can't remember the last time I was that scared," Mac stated quietly, looking at his glass.

The admission and his tone blew everyone at the table away. This was the most emotional most of them had ever seen him. Adam, Danny, Lindsay, Sheldon, and Don had all looked at Stella to see her response.

Her eyes were a bit misty, but she had a huge smile on her face.

"Well, then I guess you know how I felt ever since he kidnapped you."

For a minute, it was as if no one else was in the room. The pure trust and love in both of their faces was so raw that Don couldn't stand looking at it any more.

"A toast," Flack said, raising his bottle, "to Mac's safety, and to having each other's backs."

Everyone left afterwards. Adam and Hawkes lived close by so they walked together while Danny and Lindsay took off, no doubt to Danny's place. Flack had planned on walking Stella home, asking her out for the next evening. But Mac said he would share a cab with her, despite them living on opposite sides of town.

Despite Flack's frustration, he thought it was just as well. He was in a far too melancholy mood to charm Stella that night.

_So Drew was going out with Stella to get close to Mac. I didn't even know she was involved with anyone in particular. Would she have even agreed to go out with me if I had asked her earlier? _

Even worse, Drew Bedford, from simple observation, had figured out that Stella was the most important person to Mac.

_This is not good; first the rumor about them, then their little moment at the bar. And now he's driving her home…_

But despite how disheartened he felt, Flack refused to be deterred.

_It's not like I didn't know I'd have to deal with this issue, I just never took it very seriously. _

Even when Danny told him, he hadn't worried much about it. He knew they were just friends.

But he wasn't so sure now.

_What happened tonight just means I have to make my move quickly, before they develop into something more, _he rallied. _That is, if they're even going to. _

After all, that was no proof they felt anything other than friendship for each other. As far as Flack was concerned, there was only one relevant truth to the matter at hand:

_Stella deserves someone better than the scumbags that keep approaching her._

And he wanted that someone to be him.

**Authors note:** Hopefully, after the last chapter, it's onward and upward!


	53. On Pushing the Wrong Buttons

**On Pushing the Wrong Buttons**

Flack was working a case with Danny and Hawkes the next day. But he clocked out early hoping to catch Stella before she left the office. Walking down the lab's hall, he saw her through the glass wall of her office before arriving at the door. He watched her a bit as she worked on her computer, then took a deep breath and went inside.

"Don," Stella greeted him with a smile, making Flack's heart skip a beat, "Give me a minute, I'm just shutting the computer down," she said, closing the open windows on the screen, "unless what you need is case related?" she asked.

"It's okay. Just wanted to give you an update on Drew Bedford; he's been transferred upstate until his trial." Flack replied automatically, only to give himself a mental kick in the butt for lying about why he was there.

"Good. I'm glad we finally got to the bottom of that," she answered, pulling her purse out of her desk drawer. "Mac can finally rest easy."

"As can you, guess you dodged a bullet with the guy, huh," Flack stated, walking out with her.

"Just barely," she said, turning to lock her door, "speaking of Mac, I'm having dinner with him tonight…"

"Really," Flack interjected quickly, feeling all his hopes plummet.

"Yeah," Stella started, intending to ask if Don wanted to join them.

"Well good. It's about time you started hanging out with guys who aren't predisposed to commit murder."

For about five seconds it was as if time stopped. Flack and Stella looked at each other, each hardly able to believe what he just said. Or rather, the way he said it. Had his tone been lighter, he could have just been making a glib joke. As it was, he had sounded reproachful, almost accusatory.

_Why the hell did I say that? _And he had felt a strange satisfaction when he said it too, knowing it would agitate her.

_I guess the fact that she was seeing someone without me knowing about it bothered me more than I thought, _he realized, watching Stella's expression change from shock to hurt.

_Oh shit._

But before he could apologize, the look was quickly replaced with anger and her eyes flashed.

"This type of insensitive comment is not one I expect from you Flack. And I resent the insinuation. I'll have you know I ran a background check on Drew and didn't come up with anything. What more was I supposed to do," she bit off before going in for the kill, "detective." And with that she stalked off without giving him a chance to reply.

Flack looked at her lithe figure, stunned.

_Nice going, Don. Way to piss her off instead of asking her out. _

Feeling miserable, he wondered what he should do. Stella was way too angry for him to talk to her right now. But he didn't think he'd stand a chance against her righteous anger when he saw her the next day either.

Looking around, he saw the office shared by the rest of the CSI's was still open. Going inside, he borrowed a post it from Danny's desk and wrote a quick note.

He then walked back to Stella's office, and slid the note, face down, under her door, pushing it further into her office with his pen, making sure that only Stella, when she arrived the next morning could read it.

_And I'll be sure to be here when she does, _Flack thought, satisfied with his plan.

Danny came out of the men's room just in time to see Flack get up from the floor in front of Stella's office, dust his pants off, then walk away towards the elevators, a slight grin on his face. Curios, Danny looked into Stella's office on his way out and saw the cause of Flack's strange demeanor; a note on the floor.

_Guess he finally decided to go for it. _

Despite telling himself that he was already involved; that he was happy for Flack and Stella, Danny still couldn't muster a smile for Lindsay that night. Thinking that he was just tired, Lindsay didn't ask what was wrong.

* * *

**Author's note: **

I'm alive! I was just depressed over the fact that Melina, my favorite character Stella left the show. Then I got into The Mentalist (awesome show people) and that became my new obsession for a while. But I'm determined to give Stella the farewell she deserves so I'm back again (plus my Mentalist muse is playing hard to get). I've got a number of chapters written for this thing and I aim at finishing it before the end of the year. Reviews would be very helpful. Thanks for reading!


	54. On You and Me

**On You and Me**

The next morning, Stella saw the note through the glass even before she entered her office.

_Strange. If it was from someone in the lab they would have just sent me a message through the lab's intranet. Unless they were in a hurry and had already turned their computer off, _she thought, remembering that Danny had done so once. She unlocked her door and picked up the note. On a whim, she stopped herself from turning it over and reading it, wanting to see if she could guess who it was from. Then she remembered with annoyance Flack's comment the night before.

_With my luck, it'll probably be a stalker_ she thought ruefully walking around to her desk. Dismissing her guessing game she turned the note over.

_Stella, I' m sorry. What I meant to say is would you be interested in dating someone you know won't end up trying to kill you? Say, me for example? Flack. _

Stella barely had time to register the request when someone knocked on her glass door. Looking up, she saw Flack, who entered without waiting for an invitation.

"Is this a joke? You trying to throw me off being mad at you?" Stella asked, raising the note up a little.

"No. It's actually the reason why I came to see you last night, before I opened my mouth and ate my foot."

"Came to do what exactly…?"

"Ask you out. Just like the note says. Let's go on a date." Flack stated, careful to not appear even slightly nervous.

"What?" Confusion had completely replaced her anger.

"I'm serious. Why not? You're single, I'm single-"

"Since when? What about Devon?" Stella asked, feeling the room spin a little.

"We split up awhile back," Flack informed her, observing her sit down in her chair, "Like I was saying we're single, we enjoy each others' company. Heck, we see each other almost every day, and we're friends. Why not try an actual date, see what happens."

"Would you shut the door please," Stella asked, still trying to gather her thoughts. Flack did as she asked, then sat down at the chair facing her desk. By that time, Stella had recovered enough to answer him.

"Flack, the reasons you said are exactly why we can't date: because we enjoy each others' company, we see each other almost every day, and we're friends," she answered, "Besides, is it just me or is this kind of out of the blue?"

_If it was 6 months ago, then it would have been understandable. There had been a lot of chemistry between us. But this is a little too sudden._

"I'm not going out with you just because you feel sorry for me," she informed him.

"How about going out with me because I've been attracted to you for a long time, and I'm sick of seeing you wind up with losers just because I've been too chicken to ask you out?"

Stella found herself uncharacteristically tongue tied. The plainness of his speech left her in no doubt of his truthfulness.

_Flack was always straight forward._

It was one of the qualities she admired about him.

Stella's mind raced with the possibilities, imagining herself as Don's girlfriend. It was an exciting image, but it also worried her. If nothing else, life taught her to never let her guard down.

"Flack, I don't know. I'm really flattered. And you know I love you but don't you think it'll be too awkward? I mean, what if it doesn't work out?"

Reason told her that there would be many complications, even if she was too surprised, and excited, to think of any now.

"Stella we know each other enough to know that neither of us would ever intentionally hurt the other. What if we agree that whatever happens, we'll remain friends? You can bail out whenever you want." Stella had to smile.

"You certainly make a convincing argument, but do you mind if I sleep on it?" _I'm too excited to think clearly. I have to weigh this decision before I make it._ "I'm not trying to be coy, I'd just like to think about it first. Can you give me a day or two?" she asked.

"Sure. There's no hurry," Flack answered, already impatient, "in fact, we can even discuss it over dinner, say tomorrow?"

Stella laughed, a beautifully unguarded laugh that chimed like bells in his heart.

"We'll see," she said, knowing exactly what her answer would be once her obligatory thinking period was over.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Title taken from the Lifehouse song, You and Me. It's kind of my Fiesta theme song.


End file.
